


Desecrated Kids

by wellthisisprettyrisque (collettephinz)



Category: Fall Out Boy, Gerard Way - Fandom, My Chemical Romance, Panic! at the Disco, Twenty One Pilots, frnkiero andthe cellabration, frnkiero andthe patience
Genre: Catholicism, Crushes, Demonology, Demons, Exorcisms, Frank is a dumb, Friendship, Gerard is a little crazy, Gore, High School, M/M, Mikey is sexy, Minor Character Death, Past Character Death, Pining, Possession, Ray is like, Religious Undertones, Ryan is a bitter paranoid hippie, Ryan's dad is actually a good person in this, The non-con tag is there because possession will include a lot of nonconsensual actions, Treehouses, and Pete and Pat are just dorks, but also a total badass, cause religion, demon lore, dumb shit, dumb tropes, how do you have religion without homophobia, slight homophobia, there
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-24
Updated: 2017-02-01
Packaged: 2018-08-10 20:21:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 20
Words: 144,313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7859815
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/collettephinz/pseuds/wellthisisprettyrisque
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everyone moves into a new town and thinks it's strange. Stepping out of the car with a weird feeling tingling down the back of your neck isn't actually that unheard of, but finding that unmarked grave in the woods behind your house is.</p><p>Frank Iero wonders if his mother moved him here so he'd disappear off the face of the planet, or if she actually wants the body to be found. All he knows is that this town has some horrible things happening to it, and no one seems to care enough to lift their heads and actually see. He has no idea what's going on, and is one of the few people that wants to find out.</p><p>Luckily, Gerard is a few steps ahead of him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. “Brains on the Wall” Party

**Author's Note:**

> OKAY SO this one is gonna be a doozy and definitely fun for me since i've got a total hard on for demonology and possession and stuff and it's like hella fun
> 
> the beginning is gonna have more of a slow build because i'm actually going to try and write this one more stylistically like a book, meaning there will be quite a bit of world building involved. Aurora, Oregon is a real place and so is the high school and other town stuff that i bring in, as i tend to do a lot of research, but all events, such as kidnappings and murders, are one hundred percent fictitious and have never happened. 
> 
> again, the non-con tag is included because some people will see possession as non-consensual and i just wanna make sure no one has a hard time reading this. also, people do crazy shit when they're possessed that they would never do if they weren't, and it can be a little messy. the minor character death includes characters that ARE NOT the main characters that are band members, so don't expect me to kill Gabe and William randomly in here. but there is past character death of a major bandom character, though i'm not gonna spoil anything. 
> 
> ALSO I will be doing a "song recommendation" every chapter. At least one scene in each chapter will be directly inspired by a certain song, so I'll be telling you the song in the chapter notes. 
> 
> This chapters song is "I can Tell that We Are Gonna Be Friends" by The White Stripes. 
> 
> i think that's it.
> 
> betaed by the lovely **cemetardrivethru**

Frank was completely positive that his mother had chosen for them to move to Aurora of middle of fucking nowhere Oregon because she wanted him to disappear like a large portion of this population did annually. His mother resented him, she absolutely had to. That was the one way to completely explain why she’d torn him from their beautiful, tiny home in Belleville, New Jersey, driven him all the way across the fucking country in their shitty station wagon with no AC, and forced him into a tiny, two bedroom, one bathroom apartment in a town with unreliable running water, and too many fucking backwood hicks to be humanely excusable. She had to want him to go missing just like the rest of the fucking kids in this town. Adults, too. 

Frank had googled the town before they moved (since Aurora had near no cellular connection and they couldn’t afford that fancy, middle-of-nowhere wifi), and seen that the number of disappearances were at such crazy fucking amounts that Frank had been a little shocked no media had done an extensive report.

“The kids just run away,” his mother had explained tiredly as she’d filled the car with gas they couldn’t really afford. “None of them are hurt. I’m sure they contact their families and the families just don’t bother to update the authorities.”

“I’m gonna be kidnapped and you’re gonna celebrate when I’m gone,” Frank accused coldly. His mother just looked sad and didn’t say anything as Frank went into the gas station to buy some gum. They were in Idaho now, a good seven fucking hours away from their destination, and Frank had spent the past couple days listening to his outdated CD player and trying not to reach across the dash and yank the steering wheel, sending the car into a ditch or, more preferably, an oncoming semi. Anything to get them off course and away from fucking Aurora. 

“Will you laugh when they find my body?” Frank asked when they were just an hour to the Oregon state crossing line. “Will you call your friends back home and tell them you succeeded? Will you recommend they do the same to their kids? To my friends? Bob and James?”

“I’m your mother, Frank,” she said, voice weary and dragged down by something broken. 

“You’re ashamed of me because I ruined your life,” Frank said.

“You didn’t ruin anything, baby.”

“Don’t call me that,” Frank snapped before putting his headphones back in and pressing play on the Anthrax CD he’d bought before leaving home. “You want me dead.” He was being one of those stupid fucking teenagers, saying words to the person who loved him that he would regret if he ever made it past twenty five. But this was the present, he was pissed and hurt and he knew his mother hated him enough to take him to a place where he’d either go missing forever or be found as a corpse.

Frank stared at the sign with unhindered loathing. The population wasn’t even larger than a thousand fucking people, and there were trees everywhere and of course mother dearest had chosen to move in the beginning of fall, when the cold started to seep into the northern hemisphere. Frank didn’t mind the cold when he was in Jersey, but this place? It was a cold, wet, terrible place. He was going to die here, he knew it.

“Is this our house?” he asked with a bitter edge. “Really?” It was a shitty thing, barely bigger than a mobile home. It was in the middle of about a mile or so of property that Frank assumed they now owned. There was visible decay on the front of the house and Frank was willing to bet money that the hardwood floors matched the hardwood walls. He’d seen places like this on TV, where people were hoarders and destroyed their lives and the lives of others. 

God, this was such a nightmare. Frank was sure the floor was warped with water and there was probably mold in the corner of the ceilings. Frank was starting school the next day, a month into the regular kids’ schedule, so he was going to be the odd one out with dark clothes worthy of the fucking ghetto and a backpack covered in his own blood from the time he’d gotten his nose nearly crushed into his face by some asshole looking for drug money. 

Frank grabbed his backpack that was stuffed with the few things he actually liked from his old room and stormed into the house, into the smaller bedroom, and didn’t come out for the rest of the night. Instead, he kicked the bed a couple hundred times, slept on the floor, and tried to imagine anything but awfulness happening in this room. 

He didn’t succeed

. . .

“I love you, Frankie,” his mother said softly as she handed him a sack lunch and five dollars. Frank didn’t take the lunch, but he did take the money. His stomach hurt and his backpack was practically weightless his shoulders. He was about to be thrown to the wolves and his mother thought it would be funny to lie to him. 

North Marion High school. Home of the Huskies. 

Frank glowered at the brick building with all the greenery in the front and tried not to physically gag. He didn’t eat breakfast for a reason, and this was one of them— the anxiety and the stomachaches always mixed together like poison in his belly. He was already going to be the new kid; he didn’t want to be the new kid that puked all over his shoes on the first day. The student body was something like five hundred or less and nearly everyone was inside already, probably due to the light sprinkle of water falling from the sky. Frank grimaced and tugged at one of the straps of his backpack before trudging inside. There were groups of kids all sitting on the ground, against lockers, everyone chatting amongst themselves. Only a few looked up at Frank, but none of them outwardly stared. That was surprising.

The front office was clearly marked, but the final bell went off before Frank got his schedule. Fan-fucking-tastic. That meant that there would be no one around for him to go to should he be in desperate need of direction to his classes. Frank just sighed and left the office and did his best to figure it out on his own.

He spent the first day eating lunch alone, watching all the teachers with a guarded expression, and realizing he was above average intelligence in this town. At least he wouldn’t fail out of his grade. Being a Junior was hard enough in Jersey. He couldn’t imagine how hard it was going be here.

At the end of the day, he left the building, head low, not making eye contact with everyone like he had been for almost the entire day until one kid, much taller than him, passed him and said, “Nice shoes, dude. The Misfits are underrated.”

Frank watched this kid go with wide eyes and wondered if it would be stupid to smile to himself.

. . .

“Are you new here?” the same kid from yesterday asked as he approached the high school from the same sidewalk as Frank. Frank’s eyes went a little wider, but he tried to keep his cool. He was exhausted. He’d gone home th tother day and hid in his room until it had been time for him to go to school again. He hadn’t even eaten, so his stomach didn’t hurt so much.

“Pretty new,” Frank said, denying himself a witty retort. If you had to ask if someone was new, they were probably fucking new. 

“Where are you from?” the kid asked, looking ahead as he walked. Frank took the chance to check him out, give him a once over like he was ready for a fight. The kid was tall and skinny as a fucking twig, and his hair was dark brown and curling around his face. He was wearing a dark green v-neck with a lack hoodie and Converse and there were bruises under his eyes. There were a couple buttons on his satchel (a fucking leather satchel, fucking really?), but most of them were too faded for Frank to make out. 

“Belleville,” he responded.

The kid nodded. “I’ve always wanted to go to Canada.”

“What?” Frank frowned. “No, no, Belleville, New Jersey.”

“Oh.” The kid shrugged. “Just as far.”

“How do you know about a place in Canada?” Frank had to ask.

“I know a lot of things about places that aren’t here.” The kid glanced to him. “My name’s Ryan.”

“Frank,” Frank replied.

“Frank,” Ryan repeated. “Nice to meet you. Have anyone to eat lunch with yet?” When Frank shook his head, he nodded. “Me and my friends usually eat in the courtyard, under one of the awnings. Just look for some punk ass kid with eyeliner and a short little thing and I’ll be next to them.”

Frank let out this little noise, a bit shocked. Kids in Jersey weren’t nearly this accepting of a new face. Then again, a lot of the kids had stared down the barrels of funs from young ages. Most of them were pretty old for their ages. 

“You look like you’re thinking of something bad,” Ryan said. “Do you do that often? Just zone out during a polite conversation with another person?” Ryan snorted. “Why’d you even move here?”

Frank shrugged. “Probably something to do with my priest.”

“Your priest?”

“My mom is very Catholic,” Frank explained. “She didn’t do anything without getting his advice.”

“That sucks,” Ryan said. “She’ll probably start attending church here. Nearly everyone does, at least one day of the week.”

“Do you?” Frank didn’t care if that was too personal.

Ryan snorted. “No. My dad doesn’t believe in a god. Neither do I.”

Frank looked forward and saw they were in front of the school. “I’ll see you for lunch.”

Ryan parted ways with a wave.

. . .

“Dude, hey,” Ryan greeted as Frank approached with a carton of chocolate milk and nothing else. Ryan was leaning against a steel support of a metal grate awning with two other boys standing next to him. It was raining pretty fucking hard and literally everyone else was sitting in the spacious and warm cafeteria inside. 

“Why are you guys outside while it’s pouring?” Frank asked. The one with the eyeliner smirked and held up a smoking cigarette that lit up his fingertips. Frank snorted. “So you guys are the real delinquents of this town, aren’t you?” he asked, voice dripping in obvious sarcasm. The boy with the eyeliner laughed and Ryan smirked, shaking his head.

“Pete likes to smoke,” Ryan said. “We just don’t leave him alone out here in case he gets fucking nabbed.”

“So kidnappings are a thing around here,” Frank murmured.

“Oh, absolutely,” eyeliner-boy said. “Last one was only three years ago. Two guys were hanging out around the woods behind the church. One of them showed up, days later, beaten to hell, while the other is just gone.”

Ryan was watching the eyeliner-boy silently. “...Frank, this is Pete,” he said, gesturing to Mr. Eyeliner. “The guy next to him, with the trucker hat? The one who likes to imagine he’s invisible. That’s Patrick.” The one with the trucker hat narrowed his eyes at Ryan in a grumpy way and Frank instantly liked him because he was short. Pete was pretty short too, same height as Frank, probably, but not like this. Patrick was shorter than him and that made his fucking day. 

“Ry said you’re from Jersey,” Pete said as he blew smoke from his lips. They were girly lips. “What’s that like? Is it anything like Vegas?” Pete looked to Ryan when he asked that.

“How the fuck should I know if it’s like Vegas?” Ryan snorted. “I’ve never been to Jersey.”

“You’re from Vegas?” Frank asked.

Ryan just shrugged. “Pete, finish that cig,” he said. “We’ve got ten minutes left in lunch. I’m not too keen on being late to Beckett’s class again.”

“You just wanna play the piano and show off,” Pete snickered. “Who’s in that class? Fuck, Ry, I still can’t remember your schedule and it’s been a month.”

“You were in my econ class yesterday,” Patrick said to Frank. “After lunch, we can walk there together.”

Pete looked to Patrick with a pout. “What about me?”

Patrick snatched the cigarette from Pete’s hand and stomped it into the wet concrete. Pete stared at the cigarette, then looked up at Patrick. Frank nervously waited for him to get angry, but Patrick wasn’t backing down either, challenging Pete’s stare with his own. Pete then slowly smirked and waggled his brow at Patrick. “Later,” Pete said. 

Frank frowned and looked to Ryan, but Ryan wasn’t looking at any of them. He was looking to the woods.

“Pat and I are gonna go to the bathroom really quick,” Pete said. “Be back in a second.”

Ryan and Frank didn’t say a word until Pete and Patrick got back, but oddly enough? Frank didn’t mind. He was too busy watching this other boy slink behind the building, a boy with long, black hair that stuck to his face and a black sweater that was too big for his body.

. . .

The same kid was in his last class of the day. He had large cheeks of lingering baby fat and sunken in eyes with a sharp jaw and chubby fingers. His hair was greasy despite the fact that he’d been soaking wet just a few hours before. Frank watched the way the boy drew in the top left corner of all of his school papers. A ton of monkeys and space monsters and stuff. He’d flip to the next page of the packet they were reviewing just for more space, like he didn’t dare stray from the left corner. Frank didn’t listen to most of the class simply because he was right next to the kid. 

Frank squinted at the name the kid wrote on the paper and read “Gerald.” Weird name. 

At the end of the day, he went home again and avoided his mother.

. . .

“Hey,” Ryan greeted as they met at the same point down the sidewalk on the way to school. “I think you only live a property line or two away from me.”

Frank was a little intrigued. “So we’re neighbors? At least a little?”

“Something like that,” Ryan snorted. “You should come over to my place after school today. You probably don’t have a single fucking friend here, so I thought I should get to know you before I start treading into that amicable territory. Plus, there’s some shit you should know about this place. This fucking town.” He looked around with a grimace. “It’s a place with a couple more stories that I think you should know.”

“Kidnappings aren’t so bad,” Frank lied. 

“Kidnappings aren’t the half of it,” Ryan said. “Come sit with us for lunch again. Patrick likes you because you don’t talk too much. He gets a little tired of someone constantly running their mouth like Pete.”

“How’d you guys even become friends if Patrick hates Pete so much?”

Ryan laughed. “Patrick hating Pete? Hardly.”

Frank frowned as the got to the school.

“Meet us for lunch,” Ryan said. “And hang out with me after school. It’ll be fun. Or something close.”

. . .

“You’ve got a date with Ryan after school,” Pete snickered as he smoked his apparently customary cigarette. Ryan rolled his eyes and Patrick kicked Pete in the shin. Frank just tried not to show that the comment had him inwardly freaking out.

. . .

Gerald wasn’t even in class today. Frank wasn’t sure why he cared.

. . .

“Are we on a date?” Frank asked the second he and Ryan started walking back to Ryan’s place. Ryan choked on a laugh and shook his head. 

“Don’t listen to Pete,” he told Frank.  “Really, just don’t. He’s an asshole that likes making people flustered, it’s like his secret turn on or something.” Frank was still staring at him. “… We’re not on a date, dude, I promise. See, there’s this cool thing called “friends” that two guys can be with each other. It usually entails sharing Doritos and recommending porn to each other.”

“You won’t like my porn,” Frank said.

Ryan arched a brow. “Kinky?”

“Something like that.”

Ryan nodded. They ended up walking up a long dirt road surrounded by trees. Frank looked up and watched the water slide from the leaves. There was a small lull in the rain that Frank was only just realizing he needed to get used to. He honestly missed Jersey so fucking much. It was dark and dreary and hopeless there, but at least he saw the sun once a day. 

“You gotta meet my dad first,” Ryan told him. “He’s got PTSD, so he doesn’t like anyone being on the property without him know who they are. He’s not a dick or anything, just, like… stunted.”

“I don’t know much about dads,” Frank confessed.

“You don’t have to.” 

They approached a really nice house with blue paint and white shutters and Frank was a little surprised. He figured it had to take a lot of fucking work to keep the place up to these standards. It was amazing to think someone could keep everything looking so nice and well kept when it rained so fucking much. Ryan led him inside into a cozy living room that was pretty bare, but not in a way that made Frank feel like it was uninhabited. A man was in the kitchen, tall with strong shoulders and a buzzcut, and Frank was a little nervous to keep going into the house until Ryan gently said, “Hey, Dad.”

The man looked up, dishes clattering like he’d been surprised. Then his expression softened when he recognized Ryan, but instantly hardened when he saw Frank. “Who is this?”

“My new friend,” Ryan said, acting cool and collected. “Frank. He’s a new kid from Jersey. I was gonna take him out back and we were just gonna hang out and get him caught up on some schoolwork.”

The man stared Frank down, expression calculating and cold. Then he sighed. “Is he staying for dinner?”

“Yeah,” Ryan said before Frank could speak up.

The man nodded. “Just don’t make him stay too late. No walking out after dark. Tomorrow’s Friday and you’ve got that Bio exam.” Mr. Ross nodded to Frank. “Help my boy study. He gets distracted easily. Should’ve taught him a little discipline, but it all went into the damn guitar.” His expression sounded more fond than disappointed, so Frank didn’t feel very uncomfortable from the comment. “Grab some snacks or something before you go. God knows you kids don’t eat the food the school gives you.”

“That shit’s poison, dad,” Ryan snorted. The man just waved him off and Frank was in awe of how Ryan had gotten away with cursing in front of his parent. “Let’s go out back,” Ryan said, leading Frank through the house to the backdoor. Frank almost stumbled when he saw what was outside.

Greenery was everywhere, as was apparently normal to this town, but there was a garden, too. Vines grew to the sky and fresh soil gave way underneath Frank’s feet. The trees had lingering fruit, there were flowers everywhere, and a beautiful little fountain in the middle of a stone path. The yard kept going for ages into well kept woods, but Frank was a little disheartened to realize that all of this beauty was going to die soon.

“My dad likes to work in the yard,” Ryan explained as he walked. Frank looked to Ryan and saw he had some food in his arms. Frank wondered where it had come from. “It helps him feel a lot better. He’s got a lot of problems and stuff, so working in the garden and having dirt in his hands helps him feel like he has a little bit of control.”

“You seem to like your dad a lot,” Frank commented as they walked into the woods.

“My dad’s good to me,” Ryan said. “He lets me do my own shit and be my own person. He’s also pretty accepting. I’m kinda sad we had to move from Vegas, but this place is good for him. Being on his own and with the ground is good for him. It’s cool— he lets other kids come and hang out back here. Even lets the football team toss the ball around when the school is closed.”

“Why does he do that?” Frank asked.

“Because this town is dangerous and no one wants their kids playing outside, unsupervised,” Ryan explained. “My dad, though— he keeps an eye on them. On everyone.” Ryan smiled softly. “He’s a good man.” Ryan stopped walking. “Wanna go first?”

Frank frowned. “Go where?”

Ryan arched a brow, then glanced up. Frank followed his gaze. Then his eyes shot wide.

It was the coolest tree house Frank had ever seen, like something you’d see on the TLC channel. It looked like it was three different rooms all connected, and there was a second tree house in the next tree over that had a wooden bridge slung between them. A rope ladder was high above Frank’s head, but there were obvious branches cut out that you could climb to reach the ladder.

“This was here when my dad and I first moved in,” Ryan explained as Frank started to climb. Frank had never climbed a tree before. “He fixed it up for me. He wants to put a generator at the bottom and give me a microwave and shit, but I think it’d be too loud. I don’t wanna disturb the peace. Or draw attention to myself.”

Frank hoisted himself up into the tree house and grinned. “Are you a hippie?” He had to ask. There were rugs everywhere, expensive ones with the weird designs. Prayer flags were strung across the ceiling with fairy lights and there was a couch and two bean bag chairs and a record player in the corner. There were a couple framed photos on the walls and a bookshelf covered an entire wall, filled with books and records and a single laptop. Ryan joined him a couple moments and Frank laughed. “This is kinda, uh…”

“Gay?” Ryan snorted. “Fuck if I care. This is my place and I get my friends up here and we don’t give a shit about anything.”

“It’s nice,” Frank said. He sat in one of the bags and squirmed to get comfortable. “So do we—”

“You can’t go out alone at night,” Ryan said. “I’m gonna walk you home. I’m gonna have my dad let me take his knife if it really is too dark.”

Frank snorted. “I thought you’d said this wasn’t a date?”

“This is serious,” Ryan said, expression set. “People die out here, Frank, or worse. Everyone has lost someone to whatever is out there.”

Frank faltered. “I-I’d thought kids were just running away.”

“Four year olds don’t run away a d never come back without something awful happening.”

“There’s been a four year old?”

Ryan nodded. “Casey Hale. Her mother went inside to get the lemonade. Her son, fifteen, had been outside with Casey. He’d suddenly started screaming and she ran outside to see Casey disappearing into the woods. Her son was bleeding from the ears. No one saw Case again.”

“But that was ages ago, right?” Frank asked.

Ryan paused. “… That was last week.”

Frank blanched. “W-what the fuck? Why the fuck hasn’t anyone left? Why do people still live here?”

Ryan shook his head, grimacing. “Would you believe me if I told you that Mrs. Hale has already stopped looking for her daughter? People don’t forget, but… I think adults forget to feel. Like there’s something making them tired.” He sighed. “It happens so often. Maybe people just are too scared to leave their homes. No one likes change, right? And a lot of people probably have nowhere to go.”

“You just suggested two completely different things there,” Frank pointed out. 

“I’m not some paranoid crock like others around here,” Ryan huffed. “The world isn’t out to get us yet.”

“Yet,” Frank snorted.

“You’ve got to be careful out there,” Ryan continued. “You don’t walk anywhere on your own unless it’s earlier in the morning, when the sun is first rising. Any other time of day is a risk. You should always walk home with me from school and shit. I’ve honestly been pretty stupid and going by myself too and Patrick’s always on my ass about it.”

“Patrick seems like a mom,” Frank commented.

“There’s a lot of things you shouldn’t do after dark,” Ryan said, basically ignoring Frank’s comments. That was okay. His comments were dumb to cover up how uncomfortably nervous he was becoming about this new place. “You shouldn’t make jokes about evil shit kidnapping people. You shouldn’t be alone. You should get some pepper spray or something, a-and you should definitely listen for sirens. If you hear sirens, you walk in the opposite fucking direction. You do not investigate. Curiosity kills the cat, and no one bothers to bring it back.”

“When we moved here, I accused my mom of choosing Aurora so I would disappear from her life forever,” Frank said, slight remorse tinging his tone. “I was being a dick. But now that I know all this shit, I-I don’t know if I was being dramatic or not.” He sighed. “Does anyone older ever get taken?”

Ryan shrugged. “No one really knows. There are old locals that die in their sleep with blood from their eyes. No one knows how it happens, really, cause autopsies are a lot of money. They just burn them or drop them in the ground. Sometimes a wayward crazy person will stop coming to the supermarket one day, but no one actually knew where they lived in the first place, so who could check?”

“Are you scared of dying?” Frank asked.

Ryan faltered. His gaze flickered to a picture frame, but there were too many for Frank to be able to discern which particular one he’d been looking at. “… I don’t know.”

“Do you think it’s a person?” Frank asked. “Or something dangerous around here? Maybe a hole in the ground? Or an animal? What about a person with a trained animal? Or what if they just walk forever and ever until they bleed to death from their feet?”

“Like in X-Men?” Ryan asked. Frank was a little surprised Hollywood had reached this far into the woods. “Fuck, Frank, literally no one knows, and no one bothers to call the cops outside this town anymore. They just report it to the paper, do a search for a while, and then give up. There’s no hope to get these people back. People are hopeless here, okay? They don’t bother wasting resources on people that will never be found. They just keep to the curfew and cross their fingers.”

“God, what a way to live,” Frank breathed.

“Hold on for the ride,” Ryan said. “You’re gonna live like this for the next two years, at least. You said your mom is religious, right?” Ryan grimaced when Frank nodded. “A bunch of psychos. The priest himself, Father North? He’s pretty okay. He’s nice. But the actual people attending are certain that our town is cursed. They pray to their god, begging him to spare us or whatever. They think they’re gonna save the town.”

“They’re crazy, right?” Frank had no idea if they were crazy or not.

Ryan paused. “… It depends.” Frank had no idea what that meant. “God, Frank, I don’t wanna fill your head with crazy stories. I’ve been trying not to do that. I can tell you what I know, but not what I think is happening because I don’t know anything for sure.”

“So did you just bring me up here to freak me out?” Frank asked, a wild edge to his voice. “Fuck, I-I’ve only been here, like, three fucking days! What the fuck is this place? Why the fuck hasn’t anyone just evacuated and everyone bombed the town yet?”

“Fuck if I know,” Ryan sighed. “Look, I just… Wanted to warn you. So you didn’t do anything you aren’t supposed to do. Honestly, I kinda just wanted to hang out with you.” Ryan shrugged when Frank looked to him with an expectancy for Ryan to explain. “Patrick and Pete are awesome, and I’ve got other friends, but I’ve lived here for about five or six years and I just… Want something new. And you’re new. You’re cool. You’re interesting. Like getting a new book, but the book is a human, so who the fuck cares, right?”

“I’m a science experiment, and you’re in the observational stage,” Frank snorted.

“If you wanna be a psychopath, sure,” Ryan said. “I just say what I’m thinking. And I wanna make a new fucking friend, so sit down and read fucking comic books with me, then play video games after dinner. Deal?” Frank hadn’t noticed the stack of worn comics in the corner.

“Deal.” Frank said. 

. . .

“You boys get any studying done?” Mr. Ross asked, looking between the two boys with a tired sort of curiosity. Ryan snickered into his hand and Frank had to work really hard at schooling his expression. 

“We sure did study something,” Ryan said, glancing across the table to Frank, who was thinking of the same thing. Studying the homoerotic moments between Scott Summers and Logan, more like. 

Mr. Ross sighed and shook his head. “Good thing you’re smart, kid, or you’d get nowhere.”

Ryan just laughed.

. . .  
 As Ryan walked him home, Frank looked down the only dirt road that separate his house and Ryan’s house. There was a good two miles between their separate properties, but only one residence between them. “Whose house is that?”

Ryan’s expression fell into something haggard. “That’s the house of the Way family,” he said, sounding a little stiff. “Good people. Bad circumstances.” Ryan looked back ahead. “Used to be really good friends with their older son until he kinda just… Went into his shell. After a bad thing that happened.”

Frank stared down the dirt road that was almost overgrown with trees. “… Did someone get kidnapped?”

Ryan shook his head. “No. Not forever. They came back, but might as well have been dead.” Ryan’s jaw visibly clenched. “We shouldn't talk about it. It’s a really sore subject at school.”

Frank just nodded and hurried to keep up with Ryan’s pace.

. . .

“I fucking failed that exam,” Pete moaned, arms wrapped around Patrick’s neck like he was looking for sympathy. They were sitting at a table inside, for once, and Frank appreciated the warmth, but the chattering student body was a little louder than the falling rain outside. “God, Pattycakes, why can’t you teach me how to be a genius?”

“Ryan got a higher score than me,” Patrick pointed out.

“Ryan doesn’t love me like you do,” Pete retorted easily, kissing Patrick’s neck, who grimaced and flipped Pete off. “C’mon, Pat, just let me copy your homework until we’re out of this hellhole and everything will be okay. I’ll graduate and follow you to university and we’ll never be apart. We’ll take the world by storm, Patrick and Pete, P-P.”

“Fuck you, we’re not urine and I’m not helping you cheat,” Patrick deadpanned. Frank snorted a laugh.

The room suddenly got rowdier and Frank looked up as a group of boys all clambered into the room, hooting and hollering and freaking out, getting in line for lunch and shoving each other around. Frank grimaced. “Who’s that?”

Pete glanced away from Patrick for only a moment. “Football team. The only reason anyone leaves their homes on Friday nights.”

A boy split off from the football team and came towards their table, grinning wide with bright pink hair and tons of fucking energy. He stopped beside Ryan’s seat, facing everyone with the broad smile. Patrick nodded politely to the guy, but Pete absolutely beamed. 

“Joshy!” Pete greeted, standing and doing some complicated handshake with him. Joshy laughed and looked down at Ryan, then drew his gaze to Frank, and his brow shot up.

“You’re the new kid!” Joshy exclaimed. He stuck out his hand. “Josh Dun.” Frank only took it so that way Josh would shut up and leave sooner. He hadn’t sat down yet, which was a good sign. “I just wanted to come by and invite all of you to the game! We’re all pretty fucking excited and it’d be cool to see some familiar faces in the stands.”

“Literally everyone you know and their mother goes to these games,” Ryan grumbled. Josh heard him and laughed uncomfortably hard at the joke. 

“Shit, Ryan, you’re so funny,” Josh giggled, resting a hand on Ryan’s shoulder. Ryan didn’t exactly push it away and that was weird. “You should totally be there tonight, Ryan, it’d be awesome to know you were in the stands. Definitely a moral boost. Been wanting you to come to a game for a long time.” Frank’s brow shot up. Pete was grinning like an idiot as Josh basically declared some sort of long-lasting affection for Ryan, while Ryan was one hundred percent oblivious. “Hope to see you guys there!” Josh said, leaving as quickly as he came.

“Games are lame,” Patrick commented.

“There’s food,” Pete reminded Patrick. “It’ll be a date for us, Pattycakes.” Frank realized that no one was going to mention the elephant in the room with the pink hair. Fuck it.

“God, why are you so obsessed with making everything a date for us?” Patrick demanded, looking very annoyed. “I’m in the fucking marching band, I’m gonna be there whether you want me there or not.”

“What do you play?” Frank asked.

“Sex-o-phone,” Pete literally moaned. Patrick rolled his eyes.

“That’s really cool,” Frank commented. He paused. “… I think it’d be cool to go to the game.”

Patrick snorted, Pete’s eyes lit up, and Ryan just looked so disinterested. “We should all go to the game together!” Pete exclaimed. “Let’s do it! Let’s all hang out and have fun and be stupid! Oh my gosh, I’m gonna eat a hot dog. I love hot dogs. And I’ll buy Patrick some nachos for the third inning or whatever you call it so he can eat, and—”

“I can’t eat until the game is over,” Patrick interrupted duly.

“I’ll buy Patrick nachos after the show!” Pete corrected without missing a beat. “And Ryan will sit there, grumpy as every loving fuck, and just mope about how terribly unorganized everything is, and we’ll have fun like we haven’t in years.”

“Why do you even wanna go?” Patrick asked, looking skeptical.

Frank shrugged. It probably would’ve been dumb to admit that he felt like Patrick didn’t get much support from his friends when it came to marching band. Frank wanted to say some excuse, but his stomach was starting to hurt. “Might be fun,” was all he said.

Ryan sighed as Pete looked to him, eyes wide and beseeching. “Don’t make me sit in those bleachers alone,” Pete begged, having no shame. “C’mon, Ry— you hardly ever do fun things outside your house. I know it’s been hard on you this past year, but just because bad stuff happens doesn’t mean you should avoid the possibility of good things, too.”

Frank would’ve asked what Pete was referring to if he hadn’t seen the way Ryan’s expression became deadly. “Fuck off, Pete.” Ryan snapped.

“Only if you come with us tonight,” Pete negotiated gently.

Ryan scowled. “I’m going to class early,” he said, standing and slinging his satchel over his shoulder. “Kindly go fuck yourself, Pete.” He left in a huff, and Frank was a little floored. Ryan had, so far, been a pretty chill guy to the point of lethargy. Such an visceral reaction was new to Frank. And he kinda appreciated it. He liked it when people didn’t take someone else’s bullshit.

“He’ll be there,” Pete said confidently. “We’ll meet you at the stands, Frankie. I'm so excited you suggested this! I would’ve, but no one ever listens to my shitty ideas.” Pete grinned and looked to Patrick with the moon in his eyes. “I get to see you play! I’m so excited. I wish they’d let you play solos at football games. How much of your show have you guys completed?”

“Only the first act,” Patrick said. He was glancing to Frank. Frank waved awkwardly and Patrick sighed. “Look, uh, Ryan… He can be a bit of a dick, but he usually has a reason. Don’t worry about it. He won’t blow up, normally.”

“I think it was fine,” Frank said. His stomach turned and he pressed his palm into his gut. “Hey, uh, I’m gonna go to the bathroom, okay? I probably won’t be back in time for the end of lunch, so, uh… I’ll see you at class, Patrick.”

Patrick just nodded as Frank got up and left. As he was walking to the bathroom, he knocked shoulders with a boy who had his head down while shuffling through the halls with a book in his hands.

“Sorry,” the boy mumbled, and Frank was a little surprised to see it was Gerald. But he just nodded and returned the apology and went to take a piss. He wondered what Gerald had been reading and if it was really that good. He also wished he knew the kid well enough to ask about the book.

. . .

His last class of the day, Frank was enthralled with watching Gerard work. Gerard wasn’t actually working on anything, just drawing, as usual, except he had left the top left corner of the page. Gerard was drawing a extensive scene, a large group of men fighting against these dark, evil looking things. The drawing covered the words of the package they were reviewing and stretched onto Gerald’s notebook that was underneath it. Gerald was only using a black ballpoint pen and a neon pink highlighter, but he somehow made it work.

Frank could see the gore and carnage in the drawing and wondered if Gerald was in any sort of art class, because his composition looked amazing to Frank. He was entranced by watching Gerald’s pen move across the paper, the scratch of the pen on the page soothing him, louder than the drone of the teacher. He wished he could get the guy to draw him something. Frank planned on getting a ton of tattoos one day, and he almost wanted Gerald’s work to be somewhere on his skin. 

Suddenly, Gerald ripped the paper away and opened his notebook, drawing something new on the graph paper inside. Frank sat up a little straight to try and see what it was, but Gerald’s shoulder was in the way. He was very disappointed.

Gerald drew his mystery piece for a good ten minutes before the piece of paper was suddenly being shoved into Frank’s face, like Gerald was forcing it into his space so he couldn’t deny it.

Frank took the paper with a confused frown and looked it over.

It was a drawing of a zombie like creature with bolts through its head. It had a hi that looked very similar to Frank’s and wore the same shirt that Frank had worn that day— a ratty old t-shirt that had a worn picture of a smiley face on the front with one of the eyeballs of the smiley face falling out.

The drawing had a description:

“FRANKENSTEIN— creepy watcher stalker”

It was signed in the corner by “G Way” and Frank snorted and found himself smiling. He knew he was being a creep and he was a little ashamed he had been caught in the act, but he kinda thought the drawing was a little too awesome to be eclipsed by his shame. He also liked that he had been noticed. Gerald didn’t seem to be anyone super popular, so it wasn’t like Frank would be mocked for staring at Gerald’s drawing. 

He really liked what Gerald had drawn him, too. It looked rugged and scratchy, like an artist sketch he would see in an art museum that showed the steps an artist took for a final product. He wondered if Gerald had ever thought about leaving this hick town to go to the city and make a name for himself. He looked like he had the ability if he just had the right connections.

The bell rang, and Gerald stood up sharply, standing to face Frank’s desk, hair in front of half his face. “You’re staring,” Gerald accused, looking more curious than upset. “Why are you staring?”

“You’re really good at drawing,” Frank said with absolutely no shame. “I was watching because it all looked really awesome. It was cool that you started leaving the corner of the page, too. I thought it was kinda sad that you constricted yourself like that. You’re really good. Borders are dumb.”

“Do you draw?” Gerald asked, looking a little more interested. 

Frank shook his head. “But I read a lot of comics,” he amended when he saw Gerard’s face fall. “I know a lot of stuff about art too, cause I lived pretty close to New York city for a long time and my mom liked to take my to galleries and stuff since they were free on the first Friday of every month in the art district. So I saw a lot of art and that means that I know that you’re really, really good, dude. You should, like, do something with it.” He paused, then threw himself out there. “Are you going to the game tonight?”

Gerald shook his head. “I have plans.”

Frank bit his lip and nodded. “Well, maybe another time then.” He started to finally pack of his bag and smiled a bit up at Gerald. He usually didn’t like smiling at people, especially strangers, but Gerald looked pretty haggard and Frank suspected he needed a smile. “You should keep drawing, dude. You’re really fucking good and I like your style. Just on the edge of psycho and dark.” 

Gerald was looking down at his toes when Frank looked up. “… You seem nicer than most kids that talk to me,” Gerald said. “But that’s kinda my own fault. So, uh,” and then Gerald was holding out his hand. Frank took it and shook his head. “My name is Gerard. It’s nice to meet you…”

“Frank,” Frank told him, feeling like an idiot for calling this kid Gerald in his head the whole time. Frank stood from his chair and smiled again at Gerard. “It’s cool to meet you too. You should come to that game tonight if you happen to finish whatever plans you had. I’m meeting a few friends there. It’d be cool to see you.”

Frank didn’t normally forge friendships, nor did he call people his friends without them calling him their friend first. Frank had no idea what was coming over him with all of this proactive shit. But Gerard didn’t seem very upset about being invited and just shrugged.

“I’m gonna draw an alien tomorrow,” he told Frank before leaving the classroom. Frank watched him go and felt pretty fucking good. The kid wasn’t creeped out, and now Frank knew his real name.


	2. I’m Not Scared of Monsters, But I Am Scared of You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Football games can really suck and paranoid people are the best people

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sooooooo the next chapter won't be up for **two weeks** because i found an old fic that i really really wanna finish. i'll finish that, then come back to this unhindered. hella sorry for the delay, i was going through old stuff and found that and now i can't focus on this story. just two weeks, friend, promise.
> 
> **_song rec: "I Will Possess Your Heart" by Death Cab for Cutie_ **
> 
> betaed by the lovely **halseyschemicalromance**

He didn’t bother asking his mother about going to the game. She had church to attend anyways, a small woman’s group that encouraged following Christ and shit like that. Frank rolled his eyes when she told him and left without a word. He didn’t mind getting early to the game if it meant he didn’t have to listen to her try to persuade him to go to church again.

. . .

“Frankie, hey!” Pete shouted as he pushed his way through the rowdy, loud crowd to get to where Frank was sitting idly on the bleachers, waiting for anyone to show up. He’d been sitting for over an hour, and had half expected to be ditched, so seeing Pete was actually a bit of a relief. “What’s up, Frank?” Pete asked as he sat down with the hot dog he’d probably been yearning for all day. “Seen anyone you know yet?”

Frank shook his head, thought he honestly hadn’t believed Gerard would show up either. He prepared himself for Pete to be a total goofball and freak out over nothing, but Pete was actually pretty calm. He watched the field with a cool gaze, eating his hot dog without one wiener joke, and wasn’t shouting anything about dating.

“I honestly don’t understand a word of football,” Pete told Frank with a gentle smirk. “I’m definitely the last person to be at a game like this. I’m just some punk who likes to spray paint electrical boxes and write dumb poetry.” Pete shook, looking down, his smile becoming a little more self deprecating. “I should probably learn a little more.”

“Learning useful things is dumb,” Frank said. “Especially when it’s not something you like. Fuck football. Keep spray painting.”

Pete laughed and shrugged. “Who knows? Maybe it'll work out one day.”

Frank and Pete chatted easily for the thirty minutes leading up to the game, and Frank found himself really appreciating the company. Pete was a really fucking insightful guy and he could point out all of the constellations even though there was still a little bit of the sun left on the horizon. He knew about flower meanings and medieval weaponry and told Frank all about the time he’d nearly drowned in the river behind his house while saving a baby bird that couldn’t swim. Pete was even-toned and attentive whenever Frank spoke and Frank had no idea who he was talking to, because the Pete he had known was obsessed with Patrick and that… that was kinda it. But this Pete? This Pete was fucking cool.

Then the marching band showed up.

Pete jumped out of his seat and stood, scanning the ranks of the band for Patrick. Frank could see his body practically thrum with energy, and Frank rolled his eyes a little. The second Pete saw Patrick, Pete let out this ungodly shriek and flapped his arms in the air, calling out Patrick’s name and trying to get his attention. Patrick kept his eyes straight ahead, but Frank could tell he noticed Pete because his mouth was quirking out of the usual steadfast, grim line. 

Frank pulled Pete back into his seat as Pete began to make a scene. The marching band came up the bleachers and sat in the empty, roped off section that was, unfortunately, right across the walkway from them. Patrick was just a row or so up in the saxophone section, and Frank was a little pissed to realize he was going to have to deal with gooey eyed Pete for the whole game. 

“Oh my god, look at how cute he is,” Pete giggled. “Look at how adorable he is in that uniform. That hat, oh my god, with that feather thing? Jesus christ, Frankie, he’s so cute. God, I wanna hug him and stuff. Cuddle him. Mess up his hair.”

“Have him cum on your face,” Frank griped. Pete looked to Frank, wide eyed, but didn’t say anything. He kinda stuttered over the statement in his expression, then looked back to Patrick. Frank sighed and looked to where the game was starting. The kickoff thingy happened and Pete was still talking about Patrick. He felt his stomach start to protest the fact that he hadn’t eaten, and Frank kinda wanted to leave. He really wanted to leave, just ditch the game and go home. Pete was obsessed with Patrick and Frank was getting sick and—

“Hey,” Ryan said as he sat down beside Frank. He had a bag of sour gummy worms and was hunched forward a little, wearing a baggy jacket. Frank blinked slowly, a little surprised Ryan had shown up. They were fifteen minutes into the game, and the Huskies were actually winning, which was crazy. Frank’s old high school’s team had never won anything before. “I hate shit like this,” Ryan commented. “I hate all these people in one place. Just asking for something awful to happen.”

“It’s supposed to be fun,” Frank told him. “Don’t be such a downer.”

“Just asking for us to get shot or something,” Ryan said. “Sniped from the trees.” Ryan eyed the surrounding forrest suspiciously, and Frank couldn’t tell if he was serious or not. “My dad told me a story about his friend getting his neck torn into by a bullet while they were handing out soccer balls to kids overseas. Killed the kid, too. Snipers can do things you wouldn’t even begin imagine.” Ryan shook his head. “Fuck this. I’m going home the second we’re done, you hear me? But I’m gonna walk you home first.”

“And then walk back alone?” Frank snorted. “As if.”

“Then stay at my place,” Ryan replied. “Pete— wanna stay over at my house after the game?”

“Let me ask Patrick,” Pete said. He shouted the question to Patrick, who looked exasperated, but nodded. Pete beamed over at Ryan. “It’s a sleepover! You’ve got food, right? Vegetarian stuff for Frank. And shitty movies?”

“How’d you know I was a vegetarian?” Frank asked.

“Only vegetarians don’t enjoy burrito Thursdays,” Pete told him. Frank couldn’t argue with that, considering the only reason he hadn’t had a burrito that day was because the burritos had ground beef in them. “Ryan, we should grab my telescope from the house, yeah? It’ll only take a couple minutes. I wanted to show Frank a star cluster I was telling him about earlier.”

“Sure,” was all Ryan said, seeming disinterested and staring warily around the field, to the treetops. “Think the wind is a bit much tonight, or will the sniper not even have to do the regular mental calculations to make up for wind speed?”

“I think you’re paranoid,” Pete chuckled. “No one wants to snipe people at a high school football game.”

“You don’t know that,” Ryan argued.

“Yeah, I fucking do,” Pete snorted. “There’s legitimately no reason at all. And besides, we’re not even playing a rival! There’s not much of a crowd tonight,” which was weird for Frank to hear, because the bleachers were nearly full. This wasn’t much of a crowd? “Nothing’s gonna happen,” Pete laughed. “Don’t worry about it, Ryan, and enjoy the night.”

Ryan opened his mouth to retort when a scream came from the field. All eyes snapped to the field and Frank honestly didn’t understand what he was seeing, but once he did, he felt sick to his stomach. 

There was a kid from the visiting team straddling one of his own teammates on the ground. The kid on top was wearing his helmet, and it was flecked with blood. The kid below didn’t have his helmet on, but Frank couldn’t see his face, because the first kid was using the helmet to beat the kid’s fucking skull into nothing. The stadium grew silent as everyone watched in shock, unable to react.

Frank was pretty sure he saw the bottom kid’s hand twitch with each crunch of the helmet into his skull.

“We need to leave,” Ryan said, grabbing Frank’s arm and Pete’s arm and standing. He looked to Patrick and let go of Frank and Pete to run up the stairs and grab Patrick before ushering all three of them out of the bleachers. A few people were doing the same, but mostly everyone was pulling out their phones and calling 9-1-1 or staring. Frank saw multiple players run to the aid of the poor kid who had to be dead, and a coach started shouting, but Ryan pulled them away before he could see anymore.

Frank looking ahead to where Ryan was tugging them, then to his side, where Pete was being pulled along and how Pete was holding onto Patrick. The two boys seemed shell shocked, and Frank couldn’t see Ryan’s face to tell if he was just as upset. 

Frank’s stomach suddenly turned over and he snatched his hand out of Ryan’s to pull off the road they were walking and retch into the grass. The others stood by, watching, until Pete suddenly snapped back into his head and moved forward, rubbing Frank’s back as Frank emptied his empty stomach.

“Do you think he killed the guy?” Patrick asked, throat scratchy. 

“I’m gonna tell my dad what happened,” Ryan said. “He’ll call his cop buddy and find out what the fuck happened.” Frank stuck to Ryan’s side, honestly appreciating that he had a clear enough head to focus and think things through. It was a little disturbing that Ryan had such clarity in such an awful moment, but Frank was sure Ryan had his explanations. 

Ryan walked them all down the dirt road of his property. “You can call your parents from the landline,” Ryan said. “If the phone lines are down again, we’ve got radio. Your parents have radio, right?”

Patrick and Pete nodded, both wearing expressions that distantly read, “of course we do,” and Frank wondered if he should invest in a radio.

“Dad!” Ryan shouted as he brought everyone inside. Pete made a beeline for the couch, falling into it like it was something familiar, but Patrick stood in the foyer, staring at nothing. Frank wondered if you could go into shock just from watching something terrible. “Dad!” Ryan shouted again. His dad literally came running into the room, his face panicked and white as a sheet.

“What’s wrong?” Mr. Ross demanded, tone shaking. “Are you hurt?”

“A kid at the football game beat in another kid’s head with his helmet,” Ryan said. Mr. Ross’s face changed and Frank turned away to go sit on the floor by Pete. 

“You kids stay inside,” Mr. Ross said. “I’ll put a pizza into the oven, give you guys something to eat. You’re all staying the night, right?”

Pete nodded. “Can we call our parents?”

“Phone still works, for now.”

Pete got up from the couch and took Patrick gently by the hand, pulling him into the other room.

“Is this, like, normal?” Frank asked, a little disturbed by how no one was questioning why the boy had beaten in the skull of the other. “Fuck, that kid… That poor kid is probably dead. And it was his own teammate! Do you think they hated each other? What if one took the other’s girlfriend? What if this was a planned thing? Or did the kid just snap?”

Mr. Ross shook his head silently and Ryan sighed, saying, “things happen here.” That was the only explanation Ryan gave. Frank gaped.

“You’re fucking kidding me,” he said slowly. “That’s it? That’s all anyone says? Things happen here? Things happened in fucking Jersey, but people asked questions. People still called the police. People were still scared and stayed in their homes and locked the doors and acted like things were terrible. I know you guys are acting like things are terrible, b-but not like you’re scared of whatever reason this kid had.”

“Most people don’t have a reason when they snap like that,” Mr. Ross said. Frank was going to debate that statement when Ryan interrupted.

“We’ve had a ton of unexplained murders,” Ryan said. “The murderer will always get caught and then they’ll get questioned, but they won’t have a reason. They’ll just say that they blacked out. That they didn’t remember what happened. Hell, sometimes? They don’t even know the person they killed outside from seeing them once or twice in the laundromat.”

Fran shook his head slowly in disbelief. “So… you’re just used to it?”

“Only in the sense that we know nothing will come of asking questions,” Mr. Ross said.

Frank turned away. “I need to call my mom.” He went to the kitchen, at first looking at his feet to make sure he didn’t trip over anything since the house was pretty dark. When he looked up, he stopped walking and frowned a little. “Are you guys…”

Pete pulled away from where he had Patrick pressed against the kitchen counter. Their lips looked swollen and Pete looked guilty, while Patrick just looked like he was waking up. Patrick wasn’t even looking at Frank, he was staring up at Pete like Pete was the fucking sun. Patrick was probably in some sort of actual shock. 

“Uh, hey,” Pete greeted awkwardly, eyes fitting from Patrick to Frank. “This, uhm. This isn’t what it looks like?”

“Are you making out?” Frank asked. He didn’t know how to process this, really. He kinda needed to use the phone and he was also trying to understand how Pete and Patrick could be gay. Frank should’ve known. Fuck, Frank definitely should’ve known. “Are you two dating?” He looked to the phone. “… I need to use that.”

“Are you mad?” Pete asked.

Frank snorted. “I, uh…” Fuck, he wasn’t ready to the them. “No. I’m not mad,” he said instead. “I just need to call my mom, if that’s okay.”

Pete nodded and took Patrick’s hand. “We’ll call our parents later,” he told Frank before leaving the room. Patrick watched Frank as he left, looking odd. Then Patrick smiled sadly and was gone. Frank sighed and called his mom.

. . .

“They’ve been dating for, like, years,” Ryan told Frank while Pete took a shower and Patrick fucking finally got on the phone with his parents. It had taken Patrick a long time to finally speak up. “I dunno, they’ve been dating since I’ve known them. Pretty sure they’ve been attached at the dicks since they were born.”

“Do you, uh, do you mind? That they’re gay?”

Ryan snorted. “It’d be pretty fucked up if I did since I’m gay. Pete’s bi, though. Pan? Pete thinks everything is sexy.”

Frank bit his lip. “… Me too. I’m bi.”

Ryan raised a brow. “Really? Definitely wouldn’t have guessed that.”

“We had to move because one of my mother’s church group friends caught me with a boy,” Frank explained, thinking of James with a bit of melancholy. “She’d gone to the head priest of our church and he basically told us to leave and get me into the country to help me “heal of the sickness,” essentially.” Frank looked to the ceiling and felt a lot better. “Pretty sure she chose this place so I would die and she’d move back to Jersey, with all of her friends.”

“The church is fucked,” Ryan said. “You’re not sick.”

Frank nodded. “I know. That type of sick, I mean. I made my peace a long time ago.”

Ryan watched Frank’s face. “… You ever considered that maybe she moved you out here so you would be safe from that church? Where they wouldn’t be able to ridicule or curse you? Do you think maybe she was protecting you from them?”

“I don’t give a shit either way,” Frank said. “If she’d cared about me, she would have stood her ground.”

“Kinda sounds like you care,” Ryan snorted. “Just don’t be an asshole to her. Parents are doing their best, especially single parents.”

“I just can’t believe Pete and Patrick are gay together,” Frank sighed, wanting to change the subject. “Like, shouldn’t I be able to tell? Aren’t I supposed to have some sort of sixth sense for this sort of shit?” Frank grimaced. “I’m a shitty partial homosexual, aren’t I?” He glanced to Ryan. “Does your dad know about you?”

Ryan nodded. “He’s cool about it.”

“Your dad is just fucking cool,” Frank added.

Ryan smirked. “He is.”

“I like your dad too,” Pete added as he came into the room, shirtless, a towel around his waist and a towel in his hands as he dried his hair. Frank frowned, wondering how a kid in their junior year of high school could look so good shirtless. Patrick was pretty lucky.

“Is that a tattoo?” Frank asked, gesturing to the obvious ink of a batt-like figure around Pete’s belly button.

Pete grinned. “Fuck yeah it is. Fake ID in Portland. Only a hundred bucks.”

“That’s cheap for a tattoo,” Frank said, surprised.

“We can tell,” Ryan snorted.

Pete pouted and covered his tattoo with his hands. Then the towel around his waist loosened and started to drop, and Pete scrambled to grab it, while Ryan started to let out this shrieking noise as he slapped his hands over his eyes. Pete darted away with his towel falling off his hips, giggling. 

“Is he gone?” Ryan asked. “Please tell me he’s gone.”

Pete came in a short second later with his pants slung low on his hips, waggling his brow at Ryan. “You know you liked it. The Wentz knows what the ladies like, and what the ladies like is—”

Pete shut up when Patrick showed up behind him, Patrick’s eyes a little more empty than before. Patrick looked between all three of them slowly before saying, “my mom told me the boy died. His name was Greg and the boy that killed him was Jason.” Patrick swallowed hard. “Th-they’ve been friends since they were three…” Patrick was tugging at the bottom of his t-shirt. Pete only took a few seconds to wrap Patrick up in a hug, whispering something into Patrick’s ear that Frank couldn’t make out.

“Can’t even imagine how scared that Greg kid must’ve been,” Ryan sighed. 

“And no one does anything about this?” Frank demanded, a small swell of white hot anger building in his chest. “No one fucking cares? This is insane. This is wrong! People should be figuring out why things like this keep happening!”

Pete shook his head and Patrick looked honestly afraid of the suggestion. “Keep your head down low,” Pete said, like he was reciting something. “That’s what our kindergarten teacher taught us. Don’t try to find things out. Just leave if you can, when you can.”

Frank gaped. “Your teacher actually taught you that?”

“Not in so many words,” Pete sighed. “And, really, i-it was just to me. I asked too many questions as a kid. I-I could’ve gotten into a lot of trouble. Could’ve gotten hurt. Ms. M told me I need to keep quiet on most of my questions.”

“That’s insane,” Frank said, because he couldn’t think of anything else. His stomach was starting to hurt again.

Everyone was quiet. 

“I would’ve offered for all of us to sleep in the treehouse, but I don’t think it’s safe tonight,” Ryan sighed. “Fuck, I mean— no one remembered to remember it’s a full moon, you know?” Ryan laughed, but it didn’t sound like a laugh should. “We have it written on our fucking calendars for a reason.”

“Can we go to bed?” Patrick asked in a tiny voice.

Ryan nodded and shut off the light, letting everyone figure out their way in the dark.

. . .

Frank walked home on his own early the next morning, only because he snuck out before anyone could catch him. Mr. Ross had been busy outside, tending the garden, and hadn’t heard Frank. Frank didn’t know why, but he always left sleepovers before everyone else woke up. He didn’t like people seeing him when he was just waking up. He felt pretty vulnerable at the moment of awakening.

As he walked, he passed the Way property and found himself looking down that dark path that the sunlight couldn’t pierce even in the early morning. He froze in his tracks when he saw fucking Gerard walking up the path, head ducked into a book, looking like he wasn’t watching where he was going. Gerard was about to walk into Frank after Frank spent a few moments just kinda staring. Frank cleared his throat when Gerard was only a few feet away.

Gerard started and stumbled in his tracks, eyes darting from the pages to Frank’s face, wide eyed and visibly freaked out. “Who the fuck are you?” Gerard demanded, voice edging on downright fucking dangerous. Frank was almost smiling, because that was kinda cute in a super fucking dorky way. 

“Wait, shit, who?” Gerard squinted, and Frank realized he was backlit by the sun. “You’re the kid who was watching me, right? Frank? Or something like Frank.”

“Frank,” Frank affirmed, still smiling. “And you’re Gerard.” Gerard didn’t respond, so Frank cleared his throat, feeling awkward. “I just, uhm… I mean, it’s a good thing you didn’t actually come to the game last night. If you heard what happened, that is.”

Gerard didn’t meet Frank’s eyes for a long moment before he nodded. “I heard.”

Frank also nodded, feeling really unwelcome. “Good, I guess. I just—”

“I should’ve warned you,” Gerard said, interrupting Frank without care. “I should’ve said something and made sure you didn’t go. You aren’t used to this side of the world yet. You shouldn’t have had to see that.”

“What?” Frank frowned. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

“The boy,” Gerard specified. “I should’ve warned you about how the boy would kill his friend.”

“How could you have known?”  Gerard bit his lip, looking so fucking guilty that Frank felt the need to leave. “I-I’m gonna, just—”

“You shouldn’t walk alone,” Gerard interrupted again. “It’s dangerous. They’re dangerous.”

“Who’s dangerous?” Frank asked, not sure if he wanted to know the answer.

“They made the boy kill his friend,” Gerard continued, sounding almost like he was rambling nonsense. “They were talking about it, saying they wanted to have a show, make a spectacle, turn some heads and twists some necks. They wanted to make people scream.”

Frank was starting to get really fucking scared.

“They’re gonna hurt someone else soon,” Gerard murmured, mostly to himself. “And I don’t know how to stop them.”

“… You’re crazy, right?”

Gerard’s head snapped up, expression downturned and angry. “I’m not crazy! You just don’t know how to talk to them! You’re like everyone else!”

“You’re totally crazy,” Frank said. 

“No, I’m not! And I can prove it!” Frank doubted that Gerard could prove he wasn’t crazy. “I can prove it,” Gerard insisted, cheeks red. Frank didn’t know him well enough to understand. “Come with me. Come with me to the library and I will prove to you. I know what’s going on in this town. I can tell you everything and prove that I’m not crazy.”

“Holy shit, are you gonna kill me?” Frank breathed.

Gerard scowled and took Frank by the wrist, almost dragging him along. Frank was distantly reminded of how Ryan had pulled him away from the game last night, just like this. It was funny, because Frank had been pretty equally scared for his life then as he was now. “All of you are so blind,” Gerard was mumbling, hands moving as he spoke. “You just filter out the facts you wanna hear and ignore everything else. You don’t see it, don’t see everything, you just see a star and not the galaxy, _all of you are blind._ ”

“I’ve got pretty good eyesight,” Frank said thoughtlessly. 

Gerard let out this choking noise, and it took a second, but he realized that was the sound of Gerard laughing, albeit cynically. “You think you’re better than the rest, but you’re just as deluded and living in a salvaged reality as the rest of them.”

“You’re totally fucking crazy,” Frank said. Gerard remained quiet for the rest of the brisk walk to the library Frank hadn’t known the city had. “I have my own section,” Gerard explained as he nodded to the bored looking librarian at the desk. “Come with me.” He lead Frank to the back of the library, to three rooms marked “study area.” Gerard pulled out a dingy looking key and went to the furthest study room, the only one that looked even remotely used. Gerard unlocked the door and opened the it to reveal a room with nothing but a rickety table, a chair, and about fifty or so books, some of them old, some new, and some nothing more than sheets of paper stapled together.

Frank snorted. “Wow. I’m totally not blind anymore.” Despite the anxiety in his chest, and how he legitimately thought that Gerard could actually try to kill him, this was definitely not a picture that gave Frank any mental alarms. This was just a bunch of books and a paranoid nerd. Like aliens. “Wait, do you think it’s aliens?” he asked. “You think aliens are doing this?”

“What?” Gerard scoffed. “No.” Frank was a little relieved. “It’s demons.”

Frank chortled.   
 Gerard’s expression remained deadly serious. 

Frank paused. “… Demons?”

Gerard nodded. “Demons.”

“That’s fucking bullshit, dude.”

Gerard looked suddenly very tired. “I wish it were.” He went to his table, pulling out a book that looked more like some sort of binder. “Look, look, here— nearly every single person that has ever done anything horrible in this town has died of a heart attack afterwards. We don’t see a lot of the people after they’ve done something, most of them walk away and we never see them again, but a few times, people have been able to keep the murderers and stuff from escaping. Then the murderer seizes and drops to the ground, dead. Heart attacks, all of them.”

“The kid who murdered Greg is still alive,” Frank pointed out, staring at the book in horror. There were drawings of symbols and words in a language he didn’t understand. The pages were all scans printed from the internet, and they were black splotches on the pages that didn’t look like the original print, but some sort of splattered, dark liquid that had stained the pages before they’d been scanned. 

“Not for long,” Gerard said confidently. “His possession was spur of the moment. The demon was barely in his body for more than a minute, the time it took to crush the skull. He’ll be dead soon.”

“Where did you find this book?”

“This isn’t even the most important one,” Gerard said, before pulling a green folder from between two books in a stack beside him. “This is the Rituale Romanum,” He explained. “It’s a Catholic text that talks about all the stuff priests or deacons can do.”

“So?” Frank asked.

“Section eleven contains the exorcisms,” Gerard said. His eyes it up when he said the word “exorcism,” and Frank had no idea what to do. Should he run? Fuck, Frank wondered if he should run. “They were revised some time a few decades ago, but this copy contains the original exorcisms,” Gerard explained, flipping through the unattached pages and stopping at a page containing more script.

“You can read this shit?” Frank asked, a little impressed.

“I taught myself Latin and Italian and Spanish. I can also read a little Aramaic.”

Frank was then very impressed.

“Look, Frank,” Gerard said, closing the folder and looking Frank dead in the eye. “I know you say I’m crazy, and I know everyone else does. My mother wants me admitted to some psycho place, but I can’t go there, okay? What I’m doing is very, very important. My research is too important.” Frank had to break the eye contact, glancing to the left. He saw one book at stood out from the rest, a textbook sort of thing that was titled “Disasters and PTSD.” 

“I need to help someone,” Gerard continued. “Someone very important to me. And I trust that you won’t go spewing this information that I’ve shared with you to anyone who isn’t ready, yes? I trust you not to make things any harder for me than they actually are.”

“I can’t believe that you believe all of this,” Frank told him.

“I can’t believe you’re turning down the only explanation anyone’s ever given you for the things happening in this town,” Gerard retorted. 

Frank had to give him that. “I won’t tell anyone.” Who could Frank really tell? They’d probably think he was crazy just for following Gerard anyone. He wondered if Gerard had some sort of reputation in the town that Frank hadn’t heard about yet. “I mean, I think you should really see someone for the stuff in your head. But as long as you don’t hurt anyone.” And Frank was right— as long as Gerard didn’t hurt anyone, Frank didn’t actually give a fuck. “Look, uh, I kinda ditched some friends and they’re probably super worried, especially since I haven’t been home yet. I’ve got to get back.”

“I’ll go with you,” Gerard said, leaving no room for argument. Frank was pretty sure that was something everyone would do in this town. The buddy system was just second nature. Frank just nodded and left the room, knowing Gerard would follow. 

“I think you’re nice,” Gerard said, a little suddenly. “Most people laugh at me when I tell them what I think. They also say I’m crazy, but they add the laugh in there, and it kinda hurts my feelings.” Frank just kinda nodded. “I think it’s sad that you moved here,” Gerard sighed.

“Why’s that?” Frank asked.

“Only seven people have ever left this town out of a body bag,” Gerard told him. “Two were families of three, one was this nice lady who was writing a book and wanted somewhere peaceful. All of them left within the week they moved in. Everyone else? They’ve all died here, one way or another.”

Frank had fucking nothing to say to that. 

“I don’t plan on dying here,” Gerard said. “But honestly? With what I’m doing? I know I won’t be able to avoid it. I know they’re gonna come for me. I just have to completely my task before they do.”

“Jesus,” Frank breathed as they left the library.

“Having Jesus here would definitely help,” Gerard said. “Do you wanna get something to eat? There’s a phone at the diner. You could call your mom from there and no one would be worried about you anymore. There’s really good pie at this place.”

“Will you stop talking about demons?” Frank asked. Gerard frowned.

“I mean, I guess..”

“Then let’s do it,” Frank said. He needed something in his stomach before he got sick. Gerard grinned, appearing excited, and started walking to the left. Frank followed, wondering if he was stupid for trusting this insane boy. 

. . .

“My brother was possessed,” Gerard said after they’d gotten their pie. Frank groaned aloud. He hadn’t wanted any possession talk because it stressed him out. He wondered if enough crazy people believing in one thing would make the thing come true. “He’d been chased into the woods by a bully. Bert. He was a total dick. He’d been possessed and beat her to death and they found her body.”

Frank gaped. “What the fuck, dude?”

Gerard shook his head. “He didn’t do it, I know you think he’s done it, but he hasn’t. Mikey stopped eating eggs after he found out they were baby chickens. He doesn’t eat meat or anything, he couldn’t hurt anyone if he wanted to because he’s so skinny. He doesn’t have the strength to beat someone to death, Frankie.”

“I’m sorry for your loss,” Frank said, not wanting to debate the ability of a murderer, or Gerard’s blatant denial.

Gerard, though, shook his head. “Mikey’s not dead. He’s asleep.”

Frank wasn’t sure if he was being serious, or if that was just another point of denial. People often said death was like falling asleep. For all Frank knew, Gerard and his mother could be preserving the corpse of Mikey Way in the basement, dusting him off every day and making ritual sacrifice to his existence. Frank knew he was in the right part of the fucking country for crazy things like that to happen. Maybe not Oregon, but in the middle of nowhere? Definitely. 

“Mikey just needs to wake up,” Gerard said. “I’m doing my very best, I just think he’s tired. The heart attack took oxygen from his brain. His body shut down. That’s what the doctors said. The police say he did it, but no one pressed any charges. I know he didn’t do it.”

“Jesus, dude,” Frank said. “Fucking Christ.”

“Jesus would be very helpful, but we can’t handicap ourselves with hope that someone will come to our rescue,” Gerard said patiently, like he was talking to a child that didn’t understand a math problem. “We have to handle this ourselves.”

“We?” Frank repeated incredulously. “Since when was this a fucking we?”

“Since you started asking questions,” Gerard explained. “Now they’re gonna come for you.”

Frank prayed to fucking god that Gerard was only paranoid, and just that. Nothing else. There was nothing that was going to come after Frank, he fucked hoped. Frank suddenly felt this yearning for his Patron Saint medal that was tucked away in his moving boxes back at home. St. Bruno. That guy could probably do him no good. He was all about poverty being enough when you had god, but Frank sometimes just liked to rub the pendant, like people rubbed rocks or bit their nails. He wanted something to rub.

“We’ve got things to do, now,” Gerard said. “You should see my brother.”

“I have to go home,” Frank told him, finally letting himself eat the pie. “I really do. My mom is gonna be so worried about me.”

Gerard sighed. “Okay, I guess you’re right. I just, I’m only the only person to ever go and see him. He must be so lonely. I hate thinking of how alone he is. And everyone has forgotten about him, even my mother! I mean, not really, but she doesn’t go see him. She doesn’t talk about him.” Gerard rested his head in his palm, looking to the distance with a saddened expression. “It’s almost like my brother just stopped existing, but the world kept turning. And… I miss him.”

Frank felt so fucking bad for this kid now, jesus christ. “… I’ll go with you after school, like, Monday,” he said. “I have chores to do tomorrow.” That was a lie, but Gerard didn’t need to know that. It would probably only hurt his feelings. He was probably just gonna find Ryan and tell him about all of this. “I’ll go Monday. I promise.”

Gerard’s eyes lit up. “W-wait, really?”

Frank nodded.

“Oh my god, thank you!” Gerard gasped, reaching across the booth to fold his hands over Frank’s hand that wasn’t holding the fork for the pie. “It’s always so lonely in the ICU. People look at me like they feel sorry for me.” Frank wasn’t going to say that he felt sorry for Gerard too. “Thank you so much for going with me, when you do,” Gerard said. “Can I walk you home?” Frank was surprised he had asked.

“Shouldn’t we be walking in pairs no matter what?” he asked.

Gerard shook his head. “We aren’t of interest to them right now.”

Frank didn’t want to know how he knew that. He just walked home quickly and tried to forget everything that had happened that day. Except it was only eleven in the morning.

. . .

“So, I met this guy yesterday,” Frank told Ryan as Ryan walked with him into the woods, saying he wanted to show Frank something cool. Frank was pretty sure it was gonna be some lame creek or whatever bullshit, but he wasn’t going to be an asshole about it. “He’s weird. He thinks everything’s about demons.”

Ryan stopped walking for a moment and glanced back at Frank before moving again. “Oh?”

“Yeah,” Frank affirmed. “His name is Gerard.”

Ryan’s shoulders were stiff. “Yeah. I know.”

“You know him?”

Ryan nodded.

Frank snorted. “Wow. Really? You’ve known my neighbor this whole time, but you never thought to say anything? Are you guys friends?”

“Not anymore,” Ryan bit out.

Frank faltered in his steps through the woods. “… Oh.” This was awkward. “Uhm, what happened?”

“He happened,” Ryan huffed. “Look, I don’t want to talk about it, okay? It was years ago. It was a difficult time. I don’t want to think about it again, or you’ll see something you’re really not gonna fucking like, got it?” Frank knew Ryan wasn’t trying to sound harsh or anything. He figured Ryan just really wanted to give Frank absolutely no doubt concerning Ryan’s unwillingness to explore this topic with Frank.

“I’m sorry about whatever you went through,” he said, wanting to show he wasn’t going to press. “But, uh, could I talk to you about what he talked about?”

Ryan shrugged. “Shoot.”

“He thinks everyone’s being possessed by demons.” Frank added a stiff laugh at the end of his statement, not wanting to sound at all like he believed Gerard. The guy had to be crazy, there was no fucking way around it. But when Ryan looked back at him, his expression was hardened and exhausted. Frank’s face fell. “I mean… He’s not right, right?”

“Shitty stuff happened to his brother and he’s looking for any way to cope,” Ryan said. “I would’ve thought of anything to explain what happened. I would’ve believed anything, if I were him.”

“You haven’t said you think he’s wrong,” Frank pointed out.

Ryan sighed. “… I think he’s looked into this a lot more than anyone else. I’m not gonna deny an answer no matter how fucking stupid it is until someone comes up with any other type of answer at all.” Ryan climbed over a huge, fallen log like it was nothing while Frank had to exert effort. “He’s got more of an idea than anyone else.” Ryan stopped walking. “We’re here.”

Frank wondered how he’d missed walking up to an old, decrepit, broken down white church. He gaped at the building, because it reached halfway up the huge trees. The white paint was peeling and there were vines creeping out of the doors. The steeple was destroy and looked almost burnt and there were wild flowers around the foundation, heads pointed upwards to the sun, stubbornly alive despite the horrible feeling Frank had that a lot of people had died in this church when it reached its final moments. Because the edges of the doors and windows looked like the’d been licked by flames, and fires ended life en masse faster than a lot of other things. Like in plane crashes? Anyone who survived those would likely end burning alive, strapped to their seats, screaming.

Frank shuddered and tried to stop thinking so much. 

“This place is so old,” Ryan said. “Brendon had told me it’s been around longer than him.”

“Who’s Brendon?” Frank asked.

Ryan shut his mouth so fucking quickly that Frank heard his teeth clack. “Let’s go inside,” he said, walking in front of Frank fast enough to be running. Frank followed him, not quite sure if he’d fucked up or if Ryan had fucked up. He just followed Ryan inside and looked around. 

All of the pews were burnt and blackened, as were the walls. Shards of stained glass littered the floor, dusty and faded. The huge crucifix that would usually be at the front of the church, behind the podium for the priest, was lying on the ground in between the pews, splintered and looking like it had been dragged there. Images and symbols were drawn on the walls in white chalk and if Frank squinted, he saw some stains that looked like the splatter of dark liquid. 

“What happened here?” he asked.

“Someone burnt down the church during a service,” Ryan said. “Killed, like, forty people.”

Frank gaped. “Fuck…”

“There’s a lot of death in this town,” Ryan said softly, looking around and running his fingertips over a pew almost reverently. “People say the kidnappings started happening around the time this church burned down. It’s why they pray to god to forgive them. They think god is taking their kids and shit in repentance for the church.”

“That’s fucking crazy,” was all Frank could say.

“People also say this church is haunted,” Ryan told him.

“Why the fuck did you bring me here?”

Ryan shrugged, beginning to smile. “Would you believe me if I said that I come here every now and again just to relax?” He looked away from Frank. “… I know Gerard believes demons and devils are behind all of the shit that is wrong here, and I can’t say I disagree with him because I can’t say he’s wrong without proof, but I think what he’s doing is still wrong. I’ve heard stories about people using ouija boards and actually getting hurt. I think he’s messing with something that doesn’t want to be messed with.” Ryan sighed and turned around to face him. “Frank? I think Gerard’s going to get hurt.”

Frank didn’t say anything.

“I can’t be around him for reasons that I won’t say,” Ryan continued. “But the fact that he’s talking to you, opening up to you? It means he likes you. And I think you’ll find you like him too, once you get past the paranoia. That’s why I’m going to ask you to get to know him. Keep an eye on him. Protect him, even. Because I can’t.”

“Isn’t that a lot to ask of me?” 

Ryan shrugged. “You can say no. You can. But if you don’t? Gee’s gonna get himself killed.” He looked around the church. “And when he does? Wherever he is when it happens is gonna end up looking a lot like this place.”

Frank looked to where Ryan was looking and his gaze got caught on a dark red spot on the floor. He imagined Gerard lying above that blood stain, a hole in his chest, still screaming as his clothes were burned to his skin. His organs would burn next.

Frank shuddered.

Fuck.

“I’ll do it.”


	3. No Shelter From the Storm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gerard ain't that crazy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Betaed by the lovely **cemetarydrivethru**
> 
> i mean it's possession and stuff guys it's gonna get messy
> 
> Song rec: _"Afterlife" by XYLØ_

Frank hung out around the flagpole at the front of the school, waiting for Gerard. Even though their last class was spent together, Gerard had told him he needed to go pick up an art project before he was able to leave. He’d told Frank that Frank could just wait somewhere for him, and Gerard would find him in a couple minutes. Now it was nearing thirty minutes, and Frank was getting restless. He had homework that he didn’t actually intend on doing, and Pete had been talking about making enchiladas at his house that night, and Frank was fucking hungry.

He sighed and looked up at the sky, knowing it was going to rain soon. He’d meant to get his hand on an umbrella days ago, but had never managed to do so. It felt stupid to be so careless about the weather here. Everyone else handled the rain well. He just kinda withered under his, like drowned plant life. Frank was a gross vegetable that no one wanted to eat. A wimpy salad.

“Hey,” Gerard greeted as he strode forward, smiling wide. He had a few canvases under his arm, his bag under the other. “I got everything I needed! Paints and pastels and markers! I have a huge art project coming up. I was gonna work on it with my brother. He’s always really good at giving me ideas. It’s gonna be the cover of a superhero comic!” Gerard beamed down at Frank. “Do you wanna be a sidekick in it?”

Frank found himself smiling a little and tried not let himself forget that this guy was a crazy paranoiac who believed in demons. He couldn’t let himself get fucking stupid over this kid. Ryan had asked him a favor. Frank was doing this because he was pretty sure he agreed with Ryan— Gerard was going to get himself killed. “I’ll be a sidekick,” he said.

“Awesome,” Gerard breathed, looking like his mind was racing a mile a minute. He began to walk away from the school, and Frank followed him, figuring he knew which way he was going. “We’re going to the hospital,” Gerard explained. “We’ve only got a small one here, so the hospital we’re going to is in Portland, so we’ve got to take the bus. I’ll pay for your fares and stuff. My mom gave me extra money cause she was excited that I had someone to come along!”

Frank tensed. He fucking hate public transportation. But fuck, at least he wasn’t alone.

The busses to Portland weren’t anything like busses in Jersey, and Frank almost dozed off halfway through. The trip took an hour and then Gerard made him walk a fucking mile to the hospital. 

“Legacy Good Samaritan Hospital,” Frank read aloud. 

“Good Sam,” Gerard giggled. “That’s what they call it. It’s a nice place. They’re really nice to me and they care about Mikey, though they honestly believe he should be dead. He’s got such little brain activity.” Gerard sighed unhappily. “The only reason he’s alive is because I make my father pay the medical bill instead of the child support. He does it cause he feels guilty for being an asshole to us. I just like that Mikey gets to live.”

“Is it really living?” Frank asked.

Gerard narrowed his eyes at Frank, but didn’t answer. They went into the hospital and Gerard easily made his way through the maze of corridors, probably having memorized the way ages ago. “Mikey has a nice room,” Gerard said. “The view is amazing. And one of his neighbors sometimes wakes up and tells me stories about how she used to visit parts of Africa. She also told me about the time that she gave blowjobs to ever member of Lynard Skynard.”

Frank blanched. “You’re fucking kidding.”

“She’s the best,” Gerard giggled. “C’mon! You gotta meet Mikey!’ He brought Frank into the hospital room and Frank was met with a sense of hopelessness that usually came with the ICU. He didn’t want to say he hated hospitals, but he’d never been in a hospital and heard good news. 

Frank looked over Gerard’s brother lying in bed, and felt a little broken up, because this was just a kid. Some poor fucking kid in a coma, lying in a hospital bed, who was brain dead and never gonna wake up. He was never gonna hang out with his friends, or watch porn, or achieve whatever dreams he had. He was never gonna be more than this half-corpse lying in bed, being kept alive by machines. He wondered if Gerard honestly thought if he was saving his brother, or if he was just insane. 

The boy was honestly something beautiful, in a way that Frank would’ve admired should he have seen the boy in action, alive and breathing without tubes down his nostrils. The kid was angular and gorgeous and his lashes were long, like girls wished theirs were. His arms were out at his sides like Frank had seen on autopsy tables in the movies. His hair was combed and his hospital gown was plain. He looked like he was asleep, and Frank could suddenly understand what Gerard could never make the differentiation between coma and rest. 

“He’s cute,” Frank said before he could think twice. 

Gerard smiled sadly. “He has a huge crush on this guy who lived down the street. Four years older than me, five years older than Mikey. It’s cute. He would follow the older boy around and like all the same things he did just so they could have something to talk about. Puppy love, my mom used to call it.”

Frank nodded slowly. “… There’s a lot of gay people in this town.”

“Hardly,” Gerard chuckled. “There’s me, Ryan, Pete, Patrick, and Mikey. That’s it.”

“What about that football player?”

Gerard frowned. “Who?”

“The football guy,” Frank repeated. “With the pink hair.”

Gerard blinked owlishly. “Josh Dun is gay?”

Frank shrugged. “I don’t know for sure, but he seemed pretty entranced by Ryan.”

Gerard’s expression shuttered closed at the mention of Ryan’s name. “Please don’t talk about Ryan Ross,” he requested stiffly. “That’s not a very nice thing and I don’t like thinking about it. Please don’t bring him up again.”

Frank snorted. “Weird. He said the same thing about you.”

“He talks about me?” Gerard asked, eyes lighting up. Frank was a little blindsided. Gerard had just told him he didn’t want to talk about Ryan, and then he started asking questions of his own. Frank wondered if he was always going to be confused by Gerard, or if one day he was suddenly just going to wake up and be used to it. “I didn’t know he talks about me,” Gerard said in soft wonder.

“What did you guys do?” Frank asked.

“I told you I didn’t want to talk about it,” Gerard said. 

“God, this is ridiculous,” Frank huffed. Gerard just kinda shrugged and Frank watched him. “… Possessions, though. Really? You think your brother was possessed and killed someone because a demon told him to. Is that what this is?”

Gerard nodded. “Others have been possessed. None have lived. I don’t think my brother was supposed to live, either, but he did. Because he’s strong. He knows how to fight back against evil, he’s been good at it his whole life. It’s why we played D-and-D. It helps him hone is evil-fighting abilities.”

“Even if there are demons and shit,” Frank said, emphasizing the 'if', “I really doubt they’d spend their time here. Like the alien argument. Why would being of higher intelligence waste their time of primitive creatures like us? They wouldn’t experiment on us. They wouldn’t show up in rural areas, either, they’d probably be spending their time in cities where they can kidnap large groups of people. Aliens would be geniuses with weapons beyond our understanding. They wouldn’t need to be secretive.”

“What does this have to do with demons?” Gerard asked, brow furrowed with his lower lip sticking out.

“Demons wouldn’t waste their damn time with small fries like this town,” Frank said. “They’d be in New York or LA. Taking down people by the masses. Massacre crowds left and right. Make examples of the death and insight total fear. They’d control us better that way. They’d win.”

Gerard snorted. “Are you afraid?”

“According to you, these things make people kill their friends,” Frank pointed out. “I have friends, Gerard. I don’t want to hurt them.” He didn’t believe a word of what Gerard was saying. He didn’t. But he didn’t have any other explanation. “I don’t want to kill anyone, Gerard, and neither should you.”

Gerard nodded. “… I talk to them.”

Frank ran a hand over his face. “… How?”

“A ouija board,” Gerard replied. “And signs. There are signs before possessions. Birds that fly overhead. Cars backfiring. Sometimes cats will cry. And all the bugs will run away. That day, the day the boy was killed? I saw all the bugs run away from the football field. Even the cockroaches, Frank. The cockroaches were afraid. They knew what was gonna happen.”

“Did the butterflies run away too?” Frank asked snidely. “Did the bunnies hop the fuck out of there? Cockroaches and bugs and birds and shit. They’re not smart. They can’t do anything and they don’t have hive minds and they don’t run away.”

“Bees are bugs and they created the concept of the hive mind,” Gerard said.

“Bees didn’t create shit,” Frank said. “We just observed it.”

“Demons are real,” Gerard insisted. “They’re real and they made my brother do it. They made Mikey do it.” He looked to his brother with a broken expression, reaching out to hold Mikey’s hand. “… I’m gonna read him the Hobbit. I do that a lot. I read him new books, but sometimes old books. He likes it, though his favorite book is back at home.”

Frank took the bait. “What’s his favorite book?”

“This Book is Full of Spiders,” Gerard replied. “It’s a weird book. I don’t really know why he likes it, but he does.”

“That does sound weird,” Frank agreed because he had nothing better to say. 

“It’s a sequel,” Gerard responded simple. He pulled the Hobbit from his bag, an old book with worn edges and browned pages. Frank guessed that it was second edition or something because he had never seen a book look like old without being that fucking old. 

“In a hole in the ground there lied a hobbit,” Gerard began, looking up to Mikey as he read partially from memory. Not a nasty, dirty, wet hole, filled with the ends of worms and an oozy smell, nor yet a dry, bare, sandy hole with nothing in it to sit down on or to eat: it was a hobbit-hole, and that means comfort.”

Frank sat back and listened and watched Mikey sleep. It was funny. Gerard said Mikey’s favorite book was the other one, but Frank thought Mikey enjoyed this one just fine. It mostly just seemed like Mikey wanted to hear his brother’s voice.

. . .

“It’s sad, isn’t it?” Ryan asked Frank the next day outside in the rain. Lunch was nearly over and Patrick was busy helping Pete get all the homework copied on time. “Mikey. In that bed.”

“Gerard didn’t want to talk about you either,” Frank said.

“I figured,” Ryan sighed. “He doesn’t like confronting his mistakes. He doesn’t like thinking about the past, either, unless it’ll help him somehow. He’s fucking crazy a lot of the time. He’s been through so much. With his dad and then Mikey. It’s amazing he’s able to stand on his own two feet half the time.”

Frank was so confused. “Do you guys hate each other or not?”

Ryan shook his head and watched the sky cry. “No. I could never hate Gerard Way.”

Frank believed him.

. . .

Gerard drew monsters all over his textbook that day, and Frank wondered if Gerard had seen the monsters in the books he read, or in his nightmares.

. . .

Frank went with Gerard to the hospital a few times a week after that. His mother attended church and Frank met the pastor, Father North, and his priest-in-training, Ray. Father North was a really nice man who looked to be in his early forties. He had no wife or kids because he said his church was full of all the children he could need. Ray was a large guy with big hands and big hair and big features. He smiled at Frank like he knew Frank didn’t want to be there and didn’t blame him for feeling that way. Frank left church early to go with Gerard into town.

The staff began to recognize Frank and one of Mikey’s nurses, this guy named Bob, knew what Frank’s favorite drink was from Starbucks. On some days, he’d bring Gerard and Frank coffee that wasn’t from the hospital to drink, and Frank always really liked those days. Gerard ended up bringing Mikey’s favorite book one time, and Frank got to hear the story.

“Okay,” Frank said on the bus on the way home. “The fart jokes were great. The existential questions, amazing. The bees? Fucking beautiful. But when that guy sat on the ground and got his innards sucked out through his butt?” He made a face and gestured in the air with his arms. 

“It’s for shock value,” Gerard laughed. “The first book was kinda like that too. I mean, it wasn’t nearly as gory as this one, but it definitely had plenty of fart jokes and shit and crazy things that made you rethink reading the book in public. Mikey loves being shocked. He loves not knowing what to expect. And he loves when he can’t predict the ending of a book, or at least the midway point. Mikey likes things that are fucked up. Like spiders living inside peoples’ brains and making them kill tons of people. He loves aliens and alternate dimensions and portals.”

“Port-O-Potty portals,” Frank corrected, grinning a bit.

Gerard smiled back. “Mikey loves that shit. It’s cause I was reading him comic books when he was little. Things only had to get more crazy to entertain him. He was a fractious reader, too. He read everything he could get his hands on. And he liked braiding things. Flowers, grass, hair— he braided everything when he was little. And he liked playing in the mud and he liked David Bowie way too much to be healthy. He’d have me draw tattoos all over his arms in sharpie. He liked aliens and black holes the most. Steven Hawking was his hero. I hope he still is. I’ve been buying him all of Hawking’s latest books and things. I’ve been printing off his papers and stuff. I want him to have plenty to read when he wakes up.”

“I’m sure he’ll like it,” Frank said. He watched Gerard move around in his seat on the bus to get more comfortable. “… What do you like?” Frank asked after a moment.

“Me?”  Gerard shrugged. “I like zombies. And comics, too. I like good horror stories and bad horror movies. I like Brit Pop and drawing and all that cool shit. Uhm, gosh. I don’t know what else I like.” He shrugged. “I just do a lot of research these days. Try to find some way to wake him up.”

“When was the last time you did something for yourself?” Frank had to ask. It seemed like the poor kid wasn’t having any fun anymore. 

“Does is matter?” Gerard replied. “My brother is still asleep. I need to wake him up so he can have fun too.”

Frank sighed and listened to his music for the rest of the bus ride home.

. . .

As he and Gerard walked home, they passed Ryan’s house, and Frank saw three cockroaches all skitter across the road, away from Ryan’s house. Frank was alarmed until he noticed Gerard hadn’t really cared.

He was sure it was fine.

. . .

“Ryan isn’t here?” Frank asked, a little confused. 

Pete pulled himself away from kissing Patrick’s neck long enough to look to Frank and shrug. “Sometimes he doesn’t come to school when his dad has a bad day. They like to go hiking and fishing on his dad’s bad days. They’re probably just out having fun.”

“Wouldn’t he usually tell you guys if he does?” Frank asked. “I mean, of all people, Ryan seems like the type of guy to send out fucking memos. He’d post notes around the city. Hell, he could show up at my house and formally inform me and I wouldn’t be surprised. I’m surprised that he hasn’t!”

“It’s fine,” Pete said, but Patrick was frowning. 

“Frank’s right,” Patrick said. “Ryan usually sends me an email or something. Did I ever tell you about the time that he tried to make smoke signals that would tell me different things? He drew me a vital guide and everything. Blue meant that there would be snow. Red meant that someone had gotten kidnapped or hurt or murdered. White smoke meant that he wouldn’t be at school and black smoke meant his dad was probably cooking something awesome.” Patrick smiled a bit. “I used to go over to his place for dinner when I saw the black smoke.”

“Awh,” Pete pouted. “I wish I could see Ryan’s backyard from my place. I miss out on all the fun!”

“Not too much fun. You’re the only one with a car.” Patrick pointed out. 

“Do you think one of us should go check on him?” Frank asked. 

Patrick shook his head. “He probably just forgot to tell us. If he doesn’t show up tomorrow, then yeah, we should definitely go find out. But for now, I think he’s okay.” Patrick nodded, mostly to himself. “Ryan’s a strong kid. He’s a fucking trooper. He’s been trained by his dad to fight and shit, he definitely knows what he’s doing.”

Frank grimaced. “I don’t know. Gerard said some stuff.” He couldn’t stop thinking about the cockroaches. He was a little pissed off that he was taking Gerard’s bullshit so seriously. Frank didn’t believe in the devil. He hardly believed in evil beyond the awful things humans were capable of.

“Gerard has been through shit,” Pete said. “He doesn’t really know a lot anymore. You shouldn't listen to him.”

“He’s a nice guy and he’s got cool drawings and shit. Just don’t take the stuff he says to heart.” Patrick stood as the bell rang. “The guy thinks Satan made his little brother kill his best friend. There’s no much else to be said.”

. . .

Frank went home and saw the news was on. His mother wasn’t even watching, she was just standing in the kitchen, staring into the fridge like the leftovers would tell her what to do with herself. He put down his backpack and considered going to Ryan’s house. He could sneak through the hedges of Gerard’s place and get to Ryan’s backyard without his mother ever knowing he was home, but then a scream came from the TV and both their attentions were pulled away from ignoring the TV. 

The connection was terrible and the feed flickered with static, but Frank clearly saw a crime scene with three corpses and a crying child. The headline told of a truck plowing through a family of five back in Glenwood Springs, Colorado. The police weren’t at the scene yet, the footage had just been taken on some random guy’s phone. The person holding the camera wasn’t moving to help the crying baby, who looked like her legs were crushed. Frank distantly wondered where the fifth person was when the camera swung up to show a body hanging over a fence, the body bent in half, facing upwards. Blood poured from the person’s ears, and Frank couldn’t tell if it was a man or a woman. The chest was mangled.

 _“The accident was a hit and run,”_ the newswoman said. _“The family was walking home from dinner together when the true reportedly drove onto the sidewalk and hit the family before pulling back onto the road. No one was able to capture the license plate and the police have no current leads.”_

“Sickening,” Frank’s mother said. “That poor child won’t ever walk again.”

“She won’t have a family, either,” Frank reminded her. Her expression cut off and she went back to looking in the fridge. Frank turned upstairs and went to his still packed belongings. He dug around in the boxes, past the comic books and clothes. He searched until he found the silver chain and simple pendant, pulling the necklace down over his head and letting it hang from his neck. He rubbed the pad of his thumb over the carved metal and shut his eyes to remember the words. “Saint Bruno,” he murmured. “Pray for us.”

He didn’t believe in a god, and he certainly didn’t believe in a devil, but he believed that he would never be able to explain the horrible, disgusting things humans were capable of.

“Fuck,” he cursed, clenching his fist around the patron saint. “Fucking man up, Iero.” He saw the blood behind his eyelids and wondered what the kind of fear was like. He wondered what it would be like to watch a car tear through your family and leave you with your legs useless. He wondered what it was like to lose his mother and have the person who killed her just drive away. The confusion. The terror. The regret. And the fact that there was no warning, no possible chance to say goodbye. Frank shuddered. He needed a fucking holiday. 

He wished he had a phone number to reach Ryan.

“I’m going to bed, mom!” he called out, deciding he would skip dinner. His mother didn’t respond, as expected. “You shouldn’t watch that stuff anymore!” Frank added. “It’ll rot your brain!” His mother had Frank fucking Iero for a son— she didn’t need anymore disappointment in her life.

. . .

Frank went to school the next day and Ryan wasn’t there.

“Okay,” Pete said, eyes wide and nervous. “Uh…”

“Sneak out during lunch,” Patrick said.

“Why not now?” Frank asked, tapping his fingers on his thigh. He itched to run to Ryan’s place and make sure he wasn’t fucking dead or something. He was blessedly lacking in morbid creativity early in the morning. 

“Mr. Stevenson has already seen us,” Patrick said. “Walking away now would be something he sees. He could catch us. We can’t afford to be thrown into detention and have to stay fucking longer. We ditch at lunch and get over there and make sure he’s okay.”

Frank nodded and tried not to let the other two see how fucking freaked he was. “Sounds good,” he lied. “Sounds really good.”

. . .

As Frank, Patrick, and Pete all slipped away into the woods while the rain poured down and everyone else ate inside, Frank caught a glimpse of Gerard’s dark, greasy head ducking out of sight just in time for Frank to wonder if he’d seen him at all. 

“We gotta be careful,” Pete said. “One of the parents could—”

_“Hey!”_

Their heads snapped back out the shout. Frank saw one of the orderlies start to run after them. Patrick was grabbed pretty quickly, a hand snatched at his collar. Pete started yelling at the woman who was holding Patrick back, so Frank kept fucking running. It had all happened so quickly that he didn't stop running until he reached the dirt road leading to Ryan’s place.

He distantly wondered if he should just wait for Pete and Patrick, but that would undoubtedly take a few hours. Those poor assholes were probably halfway to the principle by now. He didn’t have time to waste.

Frank walked cautiously down the path, a foreboding sense settling over his body. His skin crawled and he looked above to see larger birds circling overhead. He hoped there wasn’t some fucking body in the backyard. Ryan’s dad would probably get in a lot of trouble. He approached the house and thought everything looked normal. It was all fine— still the same color, still the same plants out front, still the same fucking trees. Then his eyes strayed from the door and he saw the broken window with the red tinging the sides.

Frank’s heart started to race. He had to go inside. 

The front door was left open just slightly, and Frank cracked the door open a little more to slip inside. He looked around the foyer and his stomach dropped. The entire house was in shambles and there was blood on the archway that led into the kitchen. Frank crept inside, eyes wide. He wished he had Pete or Patrick with him so they could watch his back. Did someone rob them?

“Ryan!” Frank whispered urgently. “Ryan! Are you here?”

No one answered, so he slinked further into the house. He crept into the kitchen and saw more destroyed furniture, more broken glass, and more blood. “Ryan,” he whispered again, terrified he’d find his dead friend on the fucking floor with a knife in his eye. It happened the man who lived downstairs from Frank back in Jersey. He’d never imagined things like that could happen in a place like this.

“Ryan, answer me,” he pleaded, picturing awful things happening to the kid. He jumped when he heard something scratch at the wood of the pantry to his left. “Ryan?” he whispered. “Is that you?” 

He remained unanswered, but he knew he had to try. Frank crept to the pantry and quietly pulled out the chair that kept the pantry door closed. The scratching stop and he heard something fall inside the pantry. Frank shut his eyes and held his breath before opening the door. 

Ryan slammed out of the closet, wild eyed and covered in blood, looking fucking out of his mind. He scrambled for footing, bare feet slipping on his own blood, then turned and grabbed Frank by his shoulders. 

“Run,” Ryan whispered, chest heaving with fear. Frank stared back, unable to move. “Run!” Ryan repeated in a shout, stumbling back and pulling Frank with him as he sprinted for the front door. Frank’s wrist cracked in Ryan’s grip and a roar sounded behind them, sounding like some sort of fucking monster. Ryan had Frank already out the door and on the front lawn, so Frank made the mistake of looking back.

Ryan’s dad was running after them with blood dripping from his smiling mouth.

Ice cold fear stabbed through Frank’s chest and he probably would’ve thrown up if he wasn’t doing his best to run away as fast as he fucking could. 

They ran down the dirt path, Ryan’s dad charging after them, and got to the poorly paved asphalt of the main street when Ryan slammed into something that made him lose momentum. 

“O-oh god, I’m sorry,” Gerard fumbled to say, looking Ryan over like he was unable to understand why Ryan looked the way he did. Torn clothes and bruises and gashes covered what skin Frank could see, and Ryan’s dad was still coming after them. Surprisingly, Ryan grabbed Gerard just as he was holding Frank and turned to keep running. Frank looked down for a split second and saw Ryan and shards of glass through his feet. 

He wasn’t sure if they’d managed to outrun the older man, or if Ryan’s dad had just stopped chasing them, but Ryan only slowed down once they were on the other side of the small town. Ryan didn’t even make a conscious decision to stop. He just suddenly collapsed like the tendons in his legs had been severed, and remained shaking on the ground, staring into nothing. Gerard gasped for breath, letting out random words of gratefulness that they had stopped running, but Frank didn’t take a moment to catch his breath. He dropped to the ground beside Ryan and tried to pull him up into his arms.

“Ryan,” he panted, shaking him by the shoulders to try and rouse him from his stupor. “Ryan. Wake up, Ryan, fuck. Fuck!” He looked down Ryan’s body, to the glass in his hairs and feet, the burn marks all along his arms that looked like cigarettes, and the multiple slicing wounds that were fucking everywhere. Ryan looked like the torture victims Frank had only ever seen produced by Hollywood. “Holy shit, Ryan,” he whimpered. “Your dad…”

“That wasn’t my dad,” Ryan slurred, his lips cracked and bleeding just like every other square inch of his body. “That wasn’t my dad,” Ryan repeated like he was drunk. “He would never…”

“Your dad just fucking chased us out of your god damn house like a lunatic,” Frank said. “That was your fucking dad.”

Ryan shook his head. “He destroyed the garden,” Ryan whispered, and Frank wondered if he was going into shock. Fuck. He was definitely going into shock. Frank had wondered about Patrick back when the boy was murdered, but this was definitely shock. Fear and adrenaline and blood loss. “Don’t… no hospital,” was the last thing Ryan said before his eyes slipped shut and his body went limp. 

“Is he okay?” 

Frank looked up at Gerard and blinked owlishly, struggling to process everything that had happened. Ryan’s father had done all of this to Ryan. Frank knew that much. 

Gerard wet his lips. “… We can take him to my house. I have a basement. My mom never goes down there.”

“Are you fucking kidding me? Look at him! He needs a doctor.”

“Ryan said he doesn’t want the hospital.”

“What the fuck does he know?!”

“Ryan’s always been really smart about these kinda of things,” Gerard defended, struggling to keep his voice from wavering. He kept looking at the blood everywhere and how the rain was washing it from Ryan’s skin. “I know someone who can help us. His dad was in the army, his dad was a military doctor. He can help us.”

“Ryan needs a real fucking doctor,” Frank repeated.

“We have the next best thing,” Gerard insisted. “Help me lift him. We’ve got to be fast.”

. . .

“If he’s that serious, you really should get him to a doctor,” said a voice Frank couldn’t really recognize that was coming down the stairs.

“Ryan asked us not to,” Gerard replied. “I always do what Ryan asks.”

Frank looked up from the dingy mattress Ryan was unconscious on to see that guy with the huge afro from the church come down the basement stairs. Frank almost wanted to beg the guy not to tell his mom he was covered in blood and sitting on the floor beside his comatose friend. The guy looked to Frank, seeming very surprised.

“Aren’t you Ms. Iero’s son?” the older man asked. 

Frank pulled on a scowl. “Yeah. And she doesn’t know I’m here. And she’s not gonna find out, either.”

The man surprised Frank even more by nodding in understanding. “Well, in case you forgot, I’m Ray.”

“He’s gonna help Ryan,” Gerard said. He was carrying hand towels and a first aid kit and a bottle of water. “Ray’s dad was an army doctor and he taught Ray a lot of stuff because people are practical and smart about things. Ray can do really cool stitches too.”

“What the fuck happened?!” Ray almost shrieked, eyes going wide. Frank guessed that he had finally noticed Ryan. Better late than never, he figured, and he knew that Ryan was an ugly sight. Bruising had formed over his knuckles and chest, neck and face. The blood wasn’t nearly as severe as before, but some wounds were still bleeding. Frank kept pushing at the wounds with a blanket Gerard had given him, scared that Ryan would bleed out any second now and expire on the couch like a fucking disaster.

“Oh my god, he’s in shock,” Ray said, dropping to the ground beside Ryan and unintentionally pushing Frank out of the way. For once, Frank didn’t mind. He wanted Ray to focus on Ryan and Ryan only.

Ray grabbed scissors from the first aid kit and literally cut open Ryan’s tattered shirt, showing no pretense for privacy. Ryan’s torso was littered with bruises and cuts and a huge, purple mess was covering his side. “He has to have at least two broken ribs,” Ray said. “He needs blood. We need to get him to a hospital.”

“Ryan said he doesn’t want a hospital, so we’re not taking him to the hospital,” Gerard said defiantly. “We’re not gonna go against his wishes.”

“What if he dies?” Ray challenged.

“Especially if he dies.” Gerard twisted his hands in his shirt. “I’ve done a lot of bad to him. I was working to keep him safe and got him hurt anyways. I’m gonna to follow his every last wish. It’s the only way I can repay him.”

“What?” Ray whirled around and stood, straightening to his full height, something Frank hadn’t seen before. He loomed over Gerard, and even Frank was intimidated. “You’re gonna put Ryan’s fucking life on the line over some dumb fuck mistake you made three years ago? Is Ryan’s life not worth your pride? You’re gonna fucking let him die because you can’t get past how badly you fucked up?”

Gerard took a few steps back, but grit his teeth and remained steadfast. “Ryan didn’t want the hospital. And even if he did, we couldn’t take him. The police would be called and they’d ask questions we don’t have the answers to.”

Ray stared Gerard down. “Who did this to him?”

Gerard clenched his hands into fists. Frank saw that even by doing so, it didn’t stop his hands from shaking. 

“Gerard,” Ray said slowly. “Who did this to him?”

“No one,” Gerard lied shakily. 

“Who is no one?” Ray asked, his voice low and terrifying. 

“I-I can’t tell you for sure,” Gerard replied slowly, like he was trying to think on his feet, and struggling.

“His dad,” Frank said, because he couldn’t stand the tension and he didn’t want to lie to a priest. “His dad did this.”

“No he didn’t!” Gerard almost shouted.

“How do you know?” Ray asked, turning to face Frank. At least he didn’t look like he was capable of murder anymore.

“I saw him,” Frank said. “I was the one who found Ryan. Ryan was locked in a closet. He was bleeding like that when I found him. I unlocked the closet and he grabbed me, and we ran, and his dad chased us. His dad was shouting and Ryan was scared. We ran into Gerard and Ryan grabbed him and all of us kept running for, like, miles.” He wasn’t actually sure how far they’d ran, he just knew that his legs were still screaming at him. “Ryan passed out once we finally stopped.”

Ray looked ashen. “You’re saying his father did this, and you don’t want to tell the police?” he asked, directing the question mostly to Gerard.

“I know Mr. Ross,” Gerard said. “The man that chased us wasn’t him. And Ryan said the same thing.”

“He said what?”

“That it wasn’t his dad,” Gerard stated. “Ryan said it wasn’t his dad.”

“So what?” Ray demanded, scoffing. “You think this is like Mikey? You think something is inside Ryan’s dad that’s making him do things? A grown ass man, with military training and the headstrong will of a fucking soldier, being controlled by some wisp of demonology?”

Gerard didn’t respond. He really didn’t need to.

Ray shook his head. “I can’t believe you. You’re going to get Ryan killed.”

“Ryan’s not gonna die,” Gerard said.

“Maybe not,” Ray relented. “He’ll probably just end up in a coma like your brother. Is that what you want? Or would you prefer he wake up long enough to say something that will continue to fuel your delusions and _then_ let him die.”

“I don’t want Ryan to die,” Gerard tried to defend, but he was getting that cagey look again.   
Frank felt like the kid was repeating himself because he didn’t know what else to say. Frank was beginning to get a little worried that Gerard really did care more about information than Ryan’s life.

“Please help him,” Gerard said, tearing Frank from his fears. “Please. I-I know that you think I’m an asshole. I think I’m an asshole. But I need Ryan to make it and not make him mad in the process. Please help him. I have to apologize.”

“If he dies, I’m not leaving you out of the story I tell the cops,” Ray almost snapped. He went back to Ryan, kneeling over him, using the towels and water and the needles and doing things to Ryan’s body that Frank couldn’t watch. He wasn’t squeamish or anything, but he could only imagine the pain that Ryan would’ve been feeling if he were awake. He hated tot think of needles going through skin without the cool payoff of leaving ink behind. 

It took nearly a whole fucking hour, but Ray somehow managed to close all the deeper cuts and wipe away all the blood he could that didn’t involve Ryan taking his pants off. He said only one rib was broken upon further inspection, and that was the extent of any skeletal damage from what he could tell. It was just a shit ton of bruising and bleeding. Ray said it was like someone had used Ryan’s body as a knife sharpener, just dragging the blade over his skin for the fun of it. Frank had felt a little like throwing up after hearing that. He was actually pretty proud of himself for not having retched. His stomach tended to be a little trigger happy with the gag reflex when he was stressed.

Pete texted Patrick around the time school got out, and Gerard took Frank’s phone, lying out of his fucking ass to Pete. “We need to keep this a secret,” he insisted. “This could be super dangerous. Ryan’s already really banged up, we can’t afford to put anyone else in danger.”

Frank had just narrowed his eyes at Gerard and snatched back his phone once Gerard had typed the message about how he was at the hospital with Ryan and Gerard to visit Mikey. He hated lying to friends, but Ryan looked like death and Frank didn’t want Patrick and Pete to end up in the same boat.

Ryan woke up sometime in the AM, eyes suddenly snapping open like his torso. Ryan cried out in pain as he sat up too quickly, and it woke Frank and Gerard. Ryan writhed on the couch, clutching his side and gasping for breath. Frank was momentarily terrified that the broken rib had punctured a lung. Ryan let out this long groan and lied back down, curling on his side, arms around his middle and squeezing his eyes shut to keep from crying. 

“Dad,” Ryan rasped, his voice wrecked. Frank crawled forward and grabbed one of the half empty water bottles, holding it out to Ryan. When Ryan didn't move for it, Frank tangled his hands in Ryan’s hair and tilted his head back to pour water into Ryan’s mouth. Instead of choking, Ryan thankfully swallowed. 

“Where’s my dad?” he wheezed once he could talk a little more clearly. “Is he okay?”

Frank blanched. “Are you kidding? He did this to you.”

Ryan shook his head. “You don't get it, that wasn’t him. That wasn’t him at all.”

“Was it… Was he someone else?” 

Frank looked back to Gerard and narrowed his eyes. “Not the fucking time, Gerard,” he said firmly, but Ryan shook his head. 

“He became someone else,” Ryan said. “I was having breakfast the other morning and he went outside to weed the roses, then came back with the fucking roses in his hands instead, all the thorns cutting him. He kept bleeding and when I tried to make him sit down and let go of the fucking plants, he backhanded me. Split my lip.” 

Ryan shook his head, still lying down, looking tired. “Gerard, look, I-I can’t handle hearing you preach right now. Can’t even really handle your voice to be honest. But what you kept saying about Mikey, how it couldn’t have been him? That’s what happened to my father. Something went inside him. Something took over his brain or his spine. I don’t know if it’s alien or supernatural, but it… It’s not him in there. It wasn’t my father who did this to me.”

Ryan looked to Gerard. “Gee. I need you to help me get whatever is inside my father out of him. I need you to help me. Help me save my father.”

This look came over Gerard, like his purpose was being realized or all the sly looks and whispers words against him had become worth it. Like all of the scorn meant nothing, because in the end, Gerard had been in the right. Gerard looked fulfilled and happy and not at all like he should when being asked for help by a guy who had been beaten half to death.

“I can help,” Gerard said. “I know what we have to do.”

“You do?” Frank and Ryan asked in unison, though Ryan sounded a lot more hopeful than Frank did. Frank was mostly incredulous that Gerard could do a god damn thing about anything at all. 

“I know what to do,” Gerard repeated. “I do. Ryan, can you stand?”

“Tomorrow,” Ryan sighed.

“Good,” Gerard said. “Tomorrow, then, we’re going to your house. We can handle this.”

Ryan frowned and Frank snorted. “What the fuck do you think you can do?” Frank demanded, completely incredulous. “What are we going to do?”

“An exorcism,” Gerard said with way too much confidence to be considered sane. Ryan’s face fell and Frank wanted to laugh. “We’ll perform an exorcism and save your dad.”

“You’re crazy,” Frank said.

But Ryan grit his teeth and nodded. “If you think this is right, then it’s what we have to do. You know all of this better than I do.”

“Are you kidding me?” Frank asked. “You’re gonna listen to this fucking nonsense?”

“That wasn’t my dad,” Ryan said. 

“It doesn’t matter if that was your dad or not, this is fucking stupid. We’re gonna get—”

“He wasn’t my father,” Ryan said again, calm. “And I trust Gerard.

Gerard smiled sadly. “Thanks, Ry.”

Frank let out a loud groan and resigned himself. “We’re gonna die tomorrow, aren’t we?”

“Not if I have anything to say about it,” Gerard declared.

Frank had no faith. He rubbed the pendant around his neck and denied himself the peace of prayer.


	4. The Worst Nightmare I’ve Ever Woken Up To

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> baseball bats and broken spines

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wowzers i've got to get used to writing action sequences haha
> 
> betaed by the lovely **cemetarydrivethru**
> 
> song rec: _Forfeit by Chevelle_

“I’ve got a lot of things we can use,” Gerard said while he poured through some books he’d brought to his house from the library. Frank and Gerard had gone to school the next day while Ryan had slept for hours and hours. Frank was incredibly jealous of the other boy, but wasn’t jealous of how he’d ended up in bed for so long. “I’ve got a couple exorcisms we should memorize, and I bought rosaries online. We can grab holy water from the church and we can even get a few copies of the bible from the pews. We’ve got a few hours. We’ll want to do this as the sun is going down, when the sunlight is the most intense. We’ll need all the windows open, and we’ll need to get some of the candles from the church, too. The ones they burn.”

“You mean the votive candles?” Frank asked, needing to clarify. “You can buy them at the fucking dollar store, what do you need them for? You can get those with the Holy Mother Mary if you wanted. You don’t need to steal them from the fucking church.”

“Aren’t those candles, like, blessed?” Gerard asked, sounding clueless. “Isn’t the wax blessed or something?”

“God, I don’t fucking know,” Frank sighed. “You know this is all bullshit, right? That was Ryan’s dad. That was his dad. We need to call the cops and get that man sent to jail, where he can never hurt Ryan again. Breakdowns like this is common with soldiers who have PTSD after deployment. A kid in my school and his entire family was shot dead in their beds by their aunt who came back from Afghanistan. It happens. It’s an awful thing, but it happens.” Holy shit, that was probably how this town felt about half the awful shit that happened here. “You, you’ve just got to make sure they can’t hurt anyone else. That’s all you can do.”

“You heard Ryan,” Gerard sighed, sounding exasperated and bored of repeating himself and repeating Ryan. “It wasn’t his dad. That’s all I need to know.”

“You’re gonna get me killed,” Frank told him. 

“You don’t have to come,” Gerard reminded him. “This could just be me and Ryan. We’ll be perfectly safe without you, it’s totally okay. I understand that you’re scared. There’s no reason to force yourself to do something you can’t handle. Ryan and I can take care of this.”

Frank narrowed his eyes. “What are you trying to say?”  Gerard shrugged. “Nothing. Just, if you’re scared, it’s okay to back down. I won’t blame you.”

“I don’t fucking back down,” Frank snapped, squaring his shoulders. “I don’t run away from a fight. I’m fucking coming with you.” He knew it was a cliche and so stupidly macho and predictable, but he wasn’t about to let Ryan go into this alone. He didn’t want Ryan to face his abusive father without Frank there to protect him. “We’ll need weapons. We need to be able to defend ourselves.”

“Good idea!” Gerard gasped. “Ryan’s dad has a gun. Maybe we can get our hands on that.”

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” Frank ran a hand over his face. “No. I-I’m drawing the line at guns. Firearms of any kind. We’re not using any of that dumb shit and we never will, do you understand me? We can’t be fooling around with those things. It’d dangerous and we don’t have any sort of training.”

“Ryan knows how to shoot,” Gerard huffed. “He’s been shooting since he was six. His dad taught him a lot of survival stuff, you know. He could probably last months out in the woods. He knows how to skin things and make knots and repair stuff and fight. He can really fight.”

“Do you think any of that shit matters?” Frank demanded. “Whatever he learned doesn’t make him capable of facing down his ex-soldier father, who’s, like, five inches taller and a hundred pounds heavier! Ryan can’t take him on! You saw how he looks now, he’ll only come out of this worse.”

Gerard narrowed his eyes at Frank. “You can say whatever you want,” he told Frank with a deadly calm to his voice. “But Ryan and I have been through a lot together. I have faith in him. I know we can do this, with or without you. And I know that Ryan and I are strong enough together to overcome whatever evil is in that house, and truly fight back against the devil. Ryan and I will win and we will get his father back.”

. . .

“I’ve got a bat,” Ryan said as he limped from the bathroom. “I found it down here with all the other crap you guys don’t use anymore. We can use that, though I’m not sure what you think you’re gonna be hitting. We can’t hurt my dad.”

“What?” Frank was incredulous. “It’s like you guys are trying to set us to fucking die in there!”

“He’s my dad, Frank,” Ryan said beseechingly. “We can’t hurt him. Not too badly. It’s too much of a risk. What if we get that thing out of him, but land him in the ICU?”

“Like he did to you?”

Ryan shrugged. “I’m not saying what happened to me isn’t okay, but it’s not his fault, either.”

“You’re gonna get yourself hurt,” Frank sighed. “And I’ll be fucking damned before I let that happen.”

Ryan looked surprised. “You sound pretty passionate about that.”

“I’m fiercely fucking loyal,” Frank swore. “Like, you don’t have to do shit to make me follow you. You’re my friend. I will always be willing to die for my friends. And you’re one of my fucking friends, so I’m gonna put my fucking neck out for you whether you want me to or not. Meaning you can’t be selfish with your life. You can’t make bullshit, reckless decisions that’ll get you killed cause it’ll get me killed with you. Understand?”

Ryan looked blown away. “Dude. Shit.”

Frank huffed and looked to the bat. “Do you know how to use that? Or should I handle it for you?”

Ryan shook his head. “No, I’ve got this. But, uh, there’s like, a couple tools. Maybe a shovel or something? Maybe there’s a knife in the kitchen. You’ll need something, Frankie. For when that thing comes out of my dad.”

“You think we’re gonna be able to touch it?” Frank wanted to scoff. Even though he didn’t believe in any of this, he knew that they would never be able to come into contact with the thing like it had a corporeal form. Frank was almost positive that they weren’t going to be able to shake its hand or punch it in the jaw. It was able to take over and fit inside bodies, how was it going to have a shape of its own when it could become anyone else? “We’re gonna be lucky if we can even see it. Aren’t things like this supposed to be invisible?”

“It’s not a ghost, Frank,” Ryan said. 

“Then what is it?” Frank challenged. “Do you really believe it’s a demon? Because if demons exist, then the devil has to exist, and then god has to exist. Are you really ready to make that sort of claim? It’s a slipper fucking slope, Ryan, and I don’t think you understand the consequences that come with believing in these things Gerard talks about.”

“Evil can exist without a god,” Ryan said.

“But Gerard thinks we have to use a god to fight back,” Frank retorted. “Meaning there has to be some sort of god to back up the power behind what he wants to do. Thusly, a god exists.”

“Maybe the power has secretly been inside us all along?” Ryan suggested, wincing and obviously grasping at straws. “Fuck, Frank, what do you want me to say? I don’t believe in god and I don’t think I ever will. But I have no other fucking way to explain what’s happening to my dad.”

“I do,” Frank said. “He snapped. His mind broke and he broke your bones. It’s awful, but it happens. The world is full of crazy people who are only crazy because they’re pushed to limits no human being should ever experience. So sure, I’ll maybe be convinced to admit it’s not your dad’s fault, if only in the way that he didn’t choose to lose his fucking mind and try to kill you. But the hands that put those bruises on you were his own and you cannot deny that.”

Ryan’s lower lip was trembling but his jaw was hard as steel.

“Stop being mean,” Gerard interjected as he came downstairs wth a golf club and a ski mask. “I have the mask for Ryan. I think the demon is focusing mainly on you to exploit the emotional connection between you and your father and gain more control over your father’s actions through said weakness. So you’ll definitely be a target. You should wear this to protect yourself.” He handed Ryan the mask. 

Ryan turned it over with a frown. “… This used to be mine. It went missing years ago.”

Gerard just cleared his throat and looked to Frank before handing him the golf club. “Be sure to yell four and give us a heads up before you start swinging this thing,” he teased awkwardly. “Wouldn’t want to put an eye out.”

“I won’t hurt you,” Frank huffed, snatching the thing from Gerard’s hands. He eyed the other boy, scrutinizing him, wondering what made him think this was going to go well. Wondering what gave Gerard so much fucking confidence in them succeeding. Gerard had never done this before, had only read of make believe in books. They were about to go against a psychotic ex-military father with weapons while they only had an instruction manual that read like a witch’s recipe, gold clubs, and baseball bats. “We should tell Pete and Patrick to expect us somewhere by tonight. Then they’ll come looking for us when we don’t show up.”

“We’re not putting them at risk,” Ryan said. “Call it stupid or whatever the fuck you want— I’m not changing my mind.”

Frank sighed. “Then we should tell my mom! Or your mom, Gerard! Someone! Someone needs to know where we’re going, like someone should always know where you go late at night. Being secretive about this isn’t gonna save anyone’s life, it’s just gonna take them longer to find out bodies.”

“Are you ready, Gee?” Ryan asked, clipping the mask to the back belt loop of his pants and looking to Gerard expectantly while completely ignoring Frank. Gerard nodded. 

“We need to pick up those few things from the church,” Gerard said. “And Frankie? I know what I said before, but we really do need you.”

“Why the fuck do you need me?” Frank demanded. “You need a skeptic to pull you from the bowls of your stupidity when you realize you were wrong all along? Or do you need a third guy to act as the red shirt?”

“We need you cause you were baptized,” Gerard explained. “Your recitation of the exorcisms will work better than mine. I was gonna do the whole ritual, with the candles and the holy water. I need you to read. It won’t listen to anyone who isn’t baptized because our body isn’t blessed or protected.” Gerard held out a piece of loose leaf paper with words Frank couldn’t pronounce scribbled on it. 

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” Frank deadpanned. Then he snatched the paper from Gerard’s hand. “Let’s go to the fucking church.”

. . .

They had to sneak around Ray, something Frank actually felt really bad about. Ray had only helped Ryan and know they were stealing from his fucking church. Ryan got a plastic water bottle full off holy water from the well by the door, Gerard stole a bible that had hymns tucked in the back Frank had memorized when he was a kid, and Frank took one of the votive candles, solemnly pulling a single candle from the rest. He didn’t know what all of this was for, and he was sure Gerard didn’t know either. 

“We’ve got to be quick,” Gerard said. “We only have an hour or so left of bright enough sunlight. We wanna really get this done before the twilight. And since none of us can tie a fucking knot, we’ve got to keep Mr. Ross locked in a room. Ryan, do you guys still have that greenhouse attached to your living room?”

Ryan nodded. “Dad doesn’t use it as often since the stuff he grows in there is out of season.”

“Seasons don’t matter in a green house,” Frank grumbled. 

“My dad doesn’t like growing things out of season regardless,” Ryan said. “He’s obsessed with being natural. He loves growing things and loves feeling like he can create new life to make up for the lives he had to take. He loves planting and growing and he…” Ryan looked away, voice drifting into silence as Frank heard emotion threatening to strangle his throat. 

Gerard rested his hand on Ryan’s back as they walked, going slowly for Ryan’s broken rib. “It’ll be okay, RyRo,” he said. Ryan sent Gerard the strangest look, and Gerard awkwardly removed his hand. They reached Ryan’s house, and everyone took a collective breath inward as they stared down the path. It looked different. More tired and dry regardless of the fact that it was predictably raining. The trees hanging over the path looked like they were dying and were three shades duller than the rest of the trees that were off Ryan’s property. 

A cockroach scuttled past Frank’s foot, away from the property.

“We can do this,” Gerard said with confidence no one else felt. “Ryan, put on your mask.” Ryan pulled the hockey mask down over his face and squared his shoulders, holding the baseball bat at the read.

“Never thought I’d need a weapon to go home,” he murmured, before taking the first step and walking down the path. Gerard and Frank followed, a few steps behind on either side. Gerard watched the bushes warily and Frank looked over the paper in his hand, trying to figure out how to pronounce half of the bullshit. 

“Omni-bus?” he muttered to himself, confused by most of it and distracted. He bumped into Ryan when Ryan suddenly stopped in his tracks and looked up. There was smoke billowing behind the house, and Frank immediately thought of the beautiful backyard and garden Ryan’s dad had spent years making. He looked to Ryan and saw how stricken his expression was.

“See?” Ryan choked out as he pulled off the ski mask like he needed better view of the smoke. “That’s not my dad.”

For the first time, Frank thought maybe Ryan was right.

Ryan toed open his front door and stared into the house for a moment. Frank saw that everything was ruined. Pictures were torn into and stained and all the furniture was in shambles. Frank saw a few of Ryan’s things strew about, and Ryan’s guitar snapped in half and strung over the ceiling light by the strings. There was blood splatter all over the walls. A sort of emptiness overcame Ryan, and he walked inside, not caring if his father appeared around the corner. Ryan had a bat. Frank was sure Ryan wasn’t that afraid. 

“Dad!” Ryan called out, drawing out the “a” in his father’s title. “I’m home!” 

There was nothing at first, not a fucking sound, until Frank heard footsteps above them, which was awful, because Ryan’s house had one story and no attic. 

“He’s on the roof,” Gerard breathed. “Get ready.”

Frank wanted to ask what the fuck Gerard expected when a dark figure suddenly broke through the window from above and ran at them, shrieking like the fucking devil. Frank reacted poorly, falling on his ass, but Ryan’s first instinct was to swing. Ryan’s dad’s head snapped to the side, a horrible crack coming from his spine, and Ryan’s eyes went wide in horror. But Mr. Ross barely missed a step and charged again, reached out and swiping at Gerard and taking out a chunk of skin from Gerard’s arm with his nails. 

“Get the fuck out of the fucking way!” Ryan shouted as he clambered over Frank’s body on the floor so he could get to Gerard. 

Gerard cried out and dropped to the floor with Frank and they both stayed down. They just watched in shock for a few seconds as Ryan was forced to fight off his father with a fucking bat. Ryan hit Mr. Ross in the head again as the man tried to take a chunk out of Ryan’s neck with snapping teeth.

The older man’s eyes were bleeding red from his irises. He grabbed Ryan’s neck, holding on tight, and Gerard was suddenly on his feet, pulling Mr. Ross back by his hair. The man screamed and scrabbled for purchase, kicking out and clawing. Gerard kept pulling, crying out, “I’m sorry, Mr. Ross! I’m sorry!” Ryan got his bearings back and grabbed his father by the shirt, dragging him in the direction of the greenhouse door. 

But the man pulled away and went flying for Frank, dropping on top of him and wildly attacking Frank’s sides with his fists. Frank screamed and looked up into the rabid eyes of Ryan’s dad and kicked wildly into the man’s stomach. Blood oozed from the man’s mouth, dripping onto Frank, who thrashed and fought and tried to get out from under him. Nails tore Frank’s shirt open and scratched at his stomach like the man was trying to get at Frank’s intestines. He stared into the eyes of absolute fucking terror and pushed back the man’s face with a splayed palm. He pressed hard and dug his nails in and felt his finger slip into the underside of the man’s eye socket with a squelch.

Then a sickening lunch filled Frank’s ears as the bat connected solidly with Mr. Ross’s skull. Gerard grabbed one of the man’s arms and Ryan grabbed the other, and they dragged the man into the green house, slamming the door shut behind him.

“The fucking words!” Ryan shouted as he braced the door closed with his body. Frank heard Mr. Ross began to slam on it, Ryan’s body jolting with each attempt the man made to free himself. “Read the fucking words!”

“Wait, wait, we need to get the wax on him!” Gerard shouted. “Frank, the candle! Light the candle and drip wax on his forehead!”  
 Frank gaped at Gerard. “You didn’t tell me to bring any fucking matches!”

Gerard paled and looked to the closed door with the violent screaming behind it. “… Ryan do you have matches?”

 _“Just fucking read it!”_ Ryan shouted. 

Frank scrambled to pull out the piece of paper. He faltered in his movements when he saw the blood on his shirt. For a split second, he thought it was his own blood, and that he was dying. 

“ _E-exorcizamus te, omni, omnis? Omnis immunde spiritus, o-omni satanica potestas…_ ” Frank fumbled his way through the worlds, feeling like eh was making a fool of himself in his fear. “ _Omnis incursion infernal adversarii, omens leg-ee-oh, omens concongre- congre- congregation et secta dia—_ ”

Frank cut himself off when Ryan’s father began to laugh. The laughter was bellowing and high pitched and sent a shiver down his spine. Ryan looked a little sick.

“Fools,” Ryan’s father spat from behind the door. He didn’t sound right. It was like a thousand little voices were coming out from deep within his throat. Like a crowd whispering in unison. “None of you are holy.”

“Who are you?!” Ryan demanded, still braced against the door. “What’s your name?”

“No, don’t ask that!’ Gerard hissed. “A name gives these things power!”

“My name is Caym,” Ryan’s father almost moaned. Frank could only imagine the ugly mess that was behind the door. “President of legions. Voice of the birds and dogs. Prince of wealth and murderer of brethren.” It started to laugh again. “Just as you have killed the one you love, I shall kill you.”

A crunching sound came, followed by a plastic pole piercing through the door and missing Ryan’s shoulder by inches. Ryan cried out and darted away on instinct, slipping on a patch of blood and landing hard on his knees as the door burst open. The demon scrambled forward and took Ryan’s head in its hands, slamming Ryan’s head into the hardwood floor again and again.

Frank grabbed the golf club Gerard had dropped and slammed it into the thing’s side, sending him to the floor and off Ryan. 

“Through the blood of jesus, I am redeemed out of the hand of the devil and my sins are forgiven!” Gerard shouted at the thing as Frank hit it again with the club, only to have it swipe out and grab Frank’s ankle, bringing him to the ground. “The blood of Jesus Christ is cleansing me of all sin! Father in heaven, send your Holy Spirit to fill us in the name of Jesus! I ask for legions upon legions of angles from heaven in the name of Jesus to station around us!”

Frank was pinned to the ground again, snapping jaws filling his vision. He turned his head to the side as blood slung from the thing’s mouth and hit his face. It burned his skin a little. Ryan ran at them with a cry and tackled the thing to the ground. 

“Angels of the lord!” Gerard shouted. “At Jesus’ command, attack every unclean spirit in Jesus’ name! I bind the principalities, powers, rulers of darkness and all strong demons in the name of jesus!”

The thing grabbed Ryan by the skull and stared into Ryan’s eyes. “I have made him suffer!” the demon roared, blood spitting from his mouth. Every time Gerard said the name Jesus or Lord, it screamed. “I have made him suffer in ways that men never could achieve!”

“I cancel all demonic assignments on this person,” Gerard gasped, stumbling away as the house started to creak and groan. The sunlight flickered from outside, and Frank prayed he was going insane. “Unclean spirits, I command you to manifest and come out in the name of jesus. I torment you demons, and give you no rest in the name of jesus!”

The thing yowled in pain, dropping to its back and writhing on the floor. It reached out and grabbed Ryan by the neck, squeezing tight and digging pointed nails into Ryan’s pulse. 

“Father in heaven, send power from the third haven to destroy these demons in the name of jesus! Warrior angels, hook into the demons and rip them apart Send the demons to the pit in jesus’ name! Flog the demons and choke them out. Send the demons to the pit in jesus’ name.”

It screamed louder, blood pouring from its mouth and eyes. The bones inside its body snapped and twisted around, like it was trying to cage itself in from the inside out. Ryan began to turn blue, scrabbling weakly at the hand around his throat, and Frank surged forward, bringing the club down on the arm and snapping it in two. 

Gerard heaved for breath and shouted one final time, “send the demons to the pit in jesus’ name!”

The room went pitch dark, like the sun was gone, and Frank’s ears were filled with screaming like thousands of bugs in the air. He felt hands all over his body at once and wind tearing at his skin. He dropped to the floor and covered his eyes even though he couldn’t see in the first place. 

A voice whispered in his ear.

_he’ll be the downfall of us all_

Light snapped back into being, the warm, healthy glow of the setting sun. It filtered through the windows like the blinds had suddenly been burned away, even though there were no blinds to be found. Frank wondered if there had been an eclipse while they were in here.

He looked around and saw Ryan’s dad lying on the floor, still bleeding, with Ryan close by. Gerard was on the floor too, sitting up, staring at the room like he couldn’t understand what he was seeing. Then Frank saw the blood that was slowly dripping from Gerard’s nose and recognized that as a sign of brain trauma.

“Shit, shit, Gerard,” he gasped, scrambling over to the boy. He knew Ryan would take care of his father. He held Gerard’s head in his hands and was worried when Gerard’s head lolled limply with Frank’s movements, like he didn’t have the energy to keep his head up on his own. “Gee, Gee, answer me,” he pleaded. “I need to hear that you’re okay.” Fuck, this fucking idiot. He’d gotten them into this mess and had gotten himself fucked in the head, hand’t he? Frank slapped his cheek lightly, for Gerard’s attention.

“Frank?” Gerard asked in a slurred whisper, forcing his eyes in Frank’s direction. “Head hurts…”

Frank nodded and checked out Gerard’s pupils. One wasn’t any bigger than the other, but it was still worrisome. He dragged the blood with his thumb away from Gerard’s lips so he wouldn’t have to taste it like Frank was tasting his own. He’d bit his tongue badly during the fight and the world was a mixture of copper and the lingering aftertaste of death. “You’re gonna be okay,” he promised, even though he couldn’t remember Gerard ever getting hurt. Maybe this was from saying that prayer? Being the one to complete the exorcism? “We didn’t need any of that dumb shit you got,” he tried to joke. “I told you. We didn’t need any of it.”

Gerard just blinked lazily at him and the blood kept flowing.

“Dad?”

Frank turned around when he heard the naked vulnerability in Ryan’s voice. He watched Ryan crawl to his father and wondered why Mr. Ross hadn’t moved yet. Ryan called out to his father again and reached out to gently nudge him. Something snapped wetly and a bone popped out of Mr. Ross’s wrist, blood spurting, but only momentarily. Then there was another snap, and ribs jutted out of Mr. Ross’s torso. A third snap, and Mr. Ross’s legs were twisted the wrong way.

Frank realized he was watching Mr. Ross’s body fall apart.

“Don’t look,” he choked out, reaching out to try and pull Ryan away as the bones in Mr. Ross’s face began to fracture. “Ry, don’t look. Don’t look.”

“Dad,” Ryan pleaded, trying to hold his father, but Frank wouldn’t let him. “Dad, no, please, dad!” Tears started to streak down Ryan’s face, salt water making tracks through the blood on Ryan’s cheeks. “Frankie, you gotta let me, I gotta make sure he’s okay!”

“He’s dead,” Frank said, because no one could survive the way Mr. Ross’s spine was slowly beginning to contort his body, slowly and methodically, like pieces of a puppet whose strings were snapping. “Whatever that thing was, it did this to him. I’m so sorry, but he’s gone.” He honestly wouldn’t have wanted the man to be alive and suffer through the horror of this broken body. “Ryan, he’s dead. You don’t need to see this.”

“We were supposed to save him,” Ryan choked out. “We were supposed to save him!”

“Ryan, we have to go,” Frank insisted. “Gerard’s hurt and so are you.” He couldn’t stop staring at the hand marks around Ryan’s pale neck. “We need to go.”

“Dad, no,” Ryan sobbed, literally watching his life fall to pieces. One of Mr. Ross’s limbs had twisted its way into popping right out of the socket, the flesh giving away in strips. Frank needed to throw up because he felt like the thing had gone through the darkness and into Frank’s stomach to make him sick. He pulled a crying Ryan to his feet and then went to Gerard, but Gerard was already standing, swaying on his feet, watching Ryan’s father contort. It was the thing of nightmares and Frank couldn’t make himself look bak. 

“We have to go,” he told Gerard urgently. Gerard nodded and went to the front door, opening it. Outside, everything was greener and the surrounding forest was loud with bugs. The rain had stopped and Frank hoped that the fire in the garden had been put out. “The basement,” he told Gerard. “Take us back to the basement.”

Gerard walked like he was dead, and Ryan cried. Frank prayed they made it back to the basement before someone saw them.

. . .

“A hot shower?” Gerard shook his head slowly, still feeling a terrible headache, but nothing worse. Frank figured the fresh air had done his head a lot of good. “He watched his father die, had a hand in it, and all we can do is recommend a hot shower.”

“You got any better ideas?” Frank demanded as the downstairs shower sprung to life beyond the bathroom door. Frank stared at the door, expecting something to start banging on it and shoving pipes through the wood. He could still hear the screaming darkness in the back of his mind and had to sit down on the mattress. Gerard was beside him, staring at his shaking hands. 

“My head hurts, Frankie,” Gerard said. “Why didn’t the exorcism work?”

“It said we weren’t holy,” Frank replied. “Maybe a priest needed to say it. Maybe just being baptized isn’t enough.”

“Do you believe now?” Gerard asked, voice low. Frank grimaced and didn’t immediately respond. He didn’t want to give Gerard whatever satisfaction Gerard could be after, because now definitely wasn’t an appropriate time to give Gerard the incentive to gloat. Ryan had just been through fucking hell, and Frank didn’t want the poor kid to walk back into the room with Gerard tooting his own horn. Ryan didn’t need that.

“I don’t know what to believe,” he said, deciding he didn’t want to outright lie to Gerard. He felt a misguided sort of gratefulness to Gerard since he had been the one to finally think of the right shit to chant to get that thing out of Ryan’s dad, even though it had been useless. Frank wondered if they’d technically been the ones to kill Mr. Ross because they’d been the ones to break all his bones with their bats and golf clubs. Frank wondered if they’d murdered a man today.

“You can’t be in denial,” Gerard said. “You can’t pretend it didn’t just happen. You can’t pretend you didn’t see the sun black out or the way his eyes were red.”

“It could’ve been hemorrhaging,” Frank defended. “Fuck, Gerard, it could’ve been anything. Anything at all. This doesn’t fucking mean shit, and it doesn’t mean we should talk about it. Fact of the matter is that Ryan’s dad is dead after you promised you would save him. What’re you gonna do about that, huh? How’re you gonna fix that? How’re we gonna fix the damage that has been done to Ryan? To his brain? His hope? His fucking everything?” Frank gestured to the bathroom door. “Ryan’s in there trying to scrub his father’s blood form his hands and we did this. We were the ones to let this happen.”

“We didn’t do this,” Gerard said. “The demon did. Caym.”

“What the fuck even is that?” Frank demanded.

“Caym is known as a lord of hell and has command over an amount of demons,” Gerard responded, his brain exhibiting itself to be an encyclopedia of the damned. “He’s a demonization of Cain.”

“Cain?” Frank repeated incredulously. “Like, killed his brother Cain? For real?”

Gerard nodded. “It makes sense too!” He almost sounded excited. “The possessions have only been happening one at a time. The murders have always been of someone close to the person who is being possessed. It follows the same MO.”

“What about the girl who walked into the woods and never came out?” Frank questioned. He didn’t think that fit.

“Did you hear about what they found the next day?” Gerard asked. Frank shook his head. “They found the little girl’s favorite stuffed animal. It was shredded. Tossed into the wood chipper that the family uses for shrubbery in the wintertime. The mother said that the stuffed was her best imaginary friend. No one ever thought much of it, but what else could there be? In the eyes of a small child, she can only ever see the imaginary as real and important because that imaginary friend knows her better than anyone since it technically is her.”

“How do you know this?” Frank asked critically. Gerard looked down and shrugged. 

“I, uh, I talked to the mom,” Gerard confessed. “I talk to most of the people who are close to the murderers and disappearances. I tend to do the investigations that the police never get around to. They don’t look into anything, Frankie, it’s insane.”

“What’re we gonna do for Ryan?” Frank asked, not liking how he was letting himself stray from the topic. Knowing how to handle Ryan’s trauma was the most important thing to him at that moment, and yet it was barely showing. He wanted to know how to help Ryan and he had a feeling Gerard knew how. 

“Well, he really likes Oreos,” Gerard said. “And cheese wiz. He likes watching dumb horror movies, but I don’t think that would be very good for him right now. He likes reading books with long words and he likes listening to record players. Not CDs, though, just record players. He likes the crackling and he likes the risk.”

“The risk?” Frank shook his head. “Gerard, his father just died and it was our fault. Listening to a vinyl won’t fix anything.”

“But it’s better than nothing, isn’t it?” Gerard was asking that. Frank was getting frustrated. 

“We need to make him talk about it,” Frank said. “I don’t know how, but we gotta. He has to talk about this. Keeping it inside won’t help him at all and we have to know how much he hates us.”

“Does that matter?” Gerard asked.

“Of course it matters!” Frank insisted. “How selfish do you have to be to think it doesn’t matter?”

“Actually, I think it’s selfish to believe that Ryan shouldn’t be mad at us, or that we should fix it somehow,” Gerard added. “I think it’s important to realize that he is going to be angry and he has every right to be angry. We fucked up. And he’s going to be angry and that’s okay. We deserve it. We did this, after all.”

“You did this,” Frank huffed. “I wanted no part of it.”

“How did it go from we to me within a few sentences?” Gerard sighed. “Technically you’re more responsible than I am. I never threw a punch. Never swung a bat. You technically broke his bones, just like Ryan did.”

Frank shuddered. “Shut the fuck up.”

Gerard ducked his head. “You’re right. That was too far. I’m very sorry.” 

“Fucking dick,” Frank choked out, trying to hide his crushing guilt beneath scorn. He wanted to judge Gerard, wanted to criticize him, wanted to be a fucking justice obsessed fool, but he couldn’t. He knew Gerard was right. He was so quick to shove the blame to Gerard within a split second when Gerard never broke a bone on the man’s body that Frank could remember. It was horrifying to realize that he was definitely one of the people to kill Ryan’s dad.

“What if he hates me?” Frank asked. “Not you. Either he already hates you or he’ll never be able to hate you. But me. He could totally hate me. Easily hate me. Everyone ends up hating me, even my own fucking mother. He’s gonna hate me for killing his father.”

“That, that’s not what I meant.” Gerard faltered, reaching out and pulling away a few times in a single second. “… Frank, you’re amazing,You’re brave and strong and while I know you always suspended yourself in disbelief over the things I said, I know that you never looked down on me for it. Pitied me, maybe, but never thought less of me.” Gerard looked down at his nails. Frank realized that they were bitten down to scabs. “That means a lot to someone like me, you know. I’m the freak. I’m the person no one in town wants to acknowledge. To know that you don’t think I’m a lesser person is amazing. That you think I’m not a freak.” Gerard started to blushed and Frank almost started to freak out. “I consider you a friend, Frankie. And I hope you feel the same.”

Frank watched Gerard for a long moment. “… Sure thing, Gee,” he finally said. “You’re my friend.” And he meant it. Gerard had pulled through, in the end. He hadn’t ran away in the face of all the nightmares he’d believed in like Frank had thought he would. And he hadn’t gloated or rubbed Frank’s ace into the very obvious fact that Frank’s down in him had been misplaced. Gerard had even mentioned gloating to anyone, come to think of it. Frank had been sure Gerard would’ve been adamant about telling the entire town he wasn’t actually crazy the second it became apparently he wasn’t Frank was surprised at Gerard’s self control. 

Gerard beamed at Frank’s declaration of their friendship and hugged Frank tightly. “I promise I won’t fuck this one up. Thank you.”

“What happened between you and Ryan?” Frank demanded to know. It had been subtly referenced so often. He was fucking ding to know the truth. He wanted to know why Ryan was so obviously bitter. He wanted to know what was so terrible that Ryan brought it up nearly every few moments that Gerard mentioned their pasts. 

Gerard open this mouth to answer when the bathroom door opened and Ryan came through, a towel over his head and an emptiness in his eyes.

“I was thinking,” Ryan said. “I’d like to go back and get his body. Give him a proper burial. He’s supposed to be buried in Arlington Cemetery, over in DC? But the police won’t care and I can’t afford a funeral.” He looked down at his dirty, blood soaked clothes that he held in his hands. “I want to bury him in the garden. What’s left of it.”

“Are you sure we shouldn’t call the police? To at least formally declare his death?” Gerard was talking softly, approaching Ryan like he was made of glass. Frank suddenly wanted to escape to the bathroom and take a shower of his own. For all his talk about making Ryan talk, all Frank really wanted to do now was run. 

“Fuck what the police do,” Ryan said. “My dad deserves to be buried. They’ll just take his body and I’ll have to buy a five thousand dollar casket only to leave it empty just so I can have something to throw in the fucking ground.” Ryan shook his head. “My dad is more than some media spazz attack that everyone will forget about within the hour. He deserves to be buried under the trees, with the flowers he took care of for years. This is my one request.” He looked between Frank and Gerard with a hardened stare. “You both owe me as much.”

“We do,” Gerard agreed solemnly. “We owe you everything for what we did, Ryan.”

“For what I did too,” Ryan said. “My father… He may have lived had I been more careful. I just, I-I didn’t see it as him. I just saw the monster occupying his brain attacking you both. I had to do something. I had to stop it. But in turn…” He was silent for a moment. “… I’m an orphan now. I don’t know what to do about that. I think I’m gonna keep going to school. And I think I don’t want to tell anyone.” He looked to Frank and Gerard again. “Will you guys promise not to say anything?”

They both nodded. They owed Ryan as much. 

“Help me get his body back,” Ryan requested. “And after that? Gee?”

Gerard nodded, waiting. 

“You’re gonna give me every single fucking page of information you have on these fuckers. You’re going to tell me everything you know. Make a fucking powerpoint presentation or something if you have to. I need to know everything.”

“No,” Gerard instantly denied. “Ryan, that isn’t a good idea. You shouldn’t go any deeper than you already have. They may target you again.”

“Do I look like I fucking care?” Ryan bit out. “I’ve lost my home, my father. I’ve lost everything. I don’t have anything else that they can take from me. And what’s even worse? I’m beginning to think they had something to do with Brendon too. I know you think the same. I know you knew that Brendon wasn’t like that just like I did. If these fuckers took him from me too, then I need to know how to destroy every single one of them, do you understand? I will kill every single one of those mother fuckers until they finally fucking kill me outright.”

Gerard was paling, wringing his hand together. “They, they’re bad monsters, Ryan. They’re the things of evil. They’ll get into your head and twist your nightmares and make you see things. They’ll whisper to you when you’re outside. And then they’ll scream when you’re alone. They won’t ever let you be alone, Ryan. Not once you let them in.”

“Who the fuck ever said I’m letting them in?” Ryan asked. “I’m kicked them out. I’m fucking evicting them, Gee, with everything I have. I’m gonna fuck them up so fucking bad that their heads will spina and they’ll fear my fucking name like god’s never did.” Ryan twisted his bloody shirt in his hands, gritting his teeth. 

“I’m going to make those things regret the day they ever came between me and my father’s ability to control his own fucking body. I’m gonna make them regret ever doing this to my family and your brother. And I swear to god, when I’m done? Fucking Lucifer himself is gonna quake in his fucking boots every time I get out of bed.”

“You’re gonna get yourself killed,” Frank said.

“And die fighting,” Ryan affirmed.


	5. Mortar Shells for Family Foundations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> obligatory clean up and funeral

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> betaed by the lovely **Cemetarydrivethru**
> 
> Song rec: _The Funeral by Band of Horses_

Ryan fell asleep on the mattress while Gerard and Frank took the couch, their legs tangled together, both sitting upright as they slept. Gerard’s warmth kept Frank’s stomachaches at bay, and he was comfortable despite sleeping upright. His neck didn’t even hurt as he slowly woke up, gradually becoming aware of the body against his and how he wasn’t upset over it at all. Usually, Frank didn’t like to be touched a lot. But Gerard wasn’t someone Frank distrusted, and he was all soft angles and warm, hopeful smiles. Nothing like the people Frank was used to back in Jersey.

Frank found himself wanting to reach out and touch the more he watched Gerard sleep. He looked relaxed in a way Frank had yet to see in him, all of his usual brow creases and fidgeting twitches gone while his body rested. He was breathing slowly, his stomach rising and falling with his arm slung over his chest. Gerard was really pretty when he was asleep. His long brown hair hung in strands over his face and his lashes were really prominent against his cheeks. He looked almost feminine.

Until Frank saw the morning wood straining within Gerard’s jeans and snorted a laugh. Like any other teenage boy, Gerard was probably a horny mother fucker. Frank could relate, though not that well. He usually woke up with stomachaches, so hard ons didn’t last long in the face of the pain. 

Frank shifted a bit so he could see Gerard a little better and kept staring. There was a lot of femininity in Gerard, but just as much masculinity, like the sharpness of his jaw and his brow and his thin, chapped lips. His nails were bitten away and the fingertips had little scars all over them, almost like the remnants of paper cuts. Actually, they were scars of paper cuts, the more that Frank thought of it. It was odd to think that Gerard had spent so many hours bent over page after page, willing to bleed for his brother and not once giving up. Frank felt like he wouldn’t given up at least once or twice, then returned maybe a month later. He wondered if Gerard ever had. 

“Why are you staring at him?” Ryan asked stiffly, his voice making Frank jump and feel inexplicably guilty. “He’s just Gerard…”

“Why do you hate each other?” Frank asked quietly. 

Ryan paused. “… He left me when I needed him most in favor of following his wild dreams of saving his brother. He abandoned me and didn’t look back, spouting bullshit about leaving me for me, even though it was bull. He was being selfish. He though he was doing what was best for me, but deep down? He was being so selfish.”

“I’m sorry,” Frank, said, at a loss for anything else to say.

“I’m over it.” Ryan was obviously lying. “I’m gonna guess we’re not going to school today, right? And tomorrow’s Saturday. I’m gonna clean up my house this weekend. I’m gonna bury my father. Or… should I burn him?”

Frank shuddered. He hated thinking about death. “I don’t know what you should do,” he replied honestly. “But I’ll help you. We can do whatever you feel is best for your father. And we’ll fix up your house and if you need somewhere to stay, you can stay with me. My mom won’t care. She’ll just be happy I haven't killed myself or something stupid. Self destruct with drugs. Something. She’ll be happy to know I have friends.”

Ryan nodded stiffly and swallowed hard enough for Frank to see. “… I’m going to miss my dad,” he said in a choked voice. “So very much. I loved him a lot. He was good to me and he encouraged me. He bought my my first guitar and taught me how to play. He showed me how to garden and play catch, and then when he saw that I wasn’t interested in those things, he let me find what did interest me and told me I should do that instead.” Ryan sniffled and Frank realized he didn’t want to listen to Ryan cry. But he also knew he had to listen because he owed Ryan as much. 

Frank untangled his legs from Gerard’s and crawled across the floor to the mattress. He sat atop it with Ryan and hesitantly pulled the other boy into his arms. Again, he was really bad with touching, and even worse at initiating touches, but Ryan needed something and Frank was willing to give him whatever it was. Ryan’s body shook and he hung his head so Frank wouldn’t be able to see his face. Frank could understand that; the need to remain strong even at your weakest. Frank had a thought that maybe Ryan didn’t trust Frank completely enough to cry around him, but Frank quickly second guessed himself. No one went through what they had yesterday and didn’t trust the other person enough not to cry their fucking heart out. 

“It’s okay to be sad,” Frank said. “When I lost my dad, I cried for days. And he didn't even die. He just left.”

“I-I wanna kill the things that did that to him,” Ryan choked out. “He died afraid, I know he did.  He died with my neck in his fucking hands, a-and I can’t… Do you know how many times he forced himself into the forest because he was scared he would get drunk and hurt me? I knew he never would, but that didn’t stop him from taking precautions. I just wanted him to find his happiness and stay with it. He found it in gardening. And then… then that thing made him burn his garden and strangle me.”

“I can’t even begin to say I know what that’s like,” Frank told him uselessly.

Ryan shrugged and sat up, wiping tears from his eyes. “Me neither. Guess we’ll never know.”

“Do you want Gerard to help?” Frank asked gently. “With your dad?”

Ryan shook his head. “He needs to give me his research.”

“Ryan, you can’t honestly think you can take on all these monsters by yourself…”

“I don’t think I can,” Ryan said. “That’s why I’ve got an asterisk in there, leading to how I’ll die trying. Because fuck my plans, Frank. I don’t have a future as long as I know these things are out there, ruining lives.”

“And if you get someone else hurt in the process?”

Ryan shrugged. “They shouldn’t have been in my way in the first place.”

. . .

_“Dude, you gotta tell me if Ryan’s okay.”_

Pete had somehow gotten the landline of Frank’s house while Frank was back home to get some clothes while his mother was at work. He’d answered the phone thoughtlessly and now wished he could hang up. He fucking hated lying.

“He’s in bad shape,” Frank sighed, unable to say anything but the barest minimum of the truth. “There, uh, there was an attack. Someone came into his house and attacked them. Shit went down. A lot is really bad right now and Ryan looks terrible. I’m gonna help him fix up his house today. It’s really bad, Pete, so don’t even bother asking if you can come. I’ll chase you off the property if I have to. You don’t need to see this shit.”

 _“But I want to see Ryan,”_ Pete insisted. _“I’m worried about the kid. He attracts bad news pretty well. Maybe I could just swing by outside his house? At the path. Or you guys could come over for lunch! Patrick’s gonna be over. My parents will be gone. We’ll have PB and J and bananas and I can make smoothies and we can get Ryan a nice little break.”_

“I’m not sure he’ll agree,” Frank confessed sadly. “He’s pretty caught up in his own shit right now.”

_“Is his dad okay?”_

Frank shut his eyes and pursed his lips. “… Don’t know.” He couldn’t lie. But he definitely couldn’t tell Pete the truth, either. “We don’t know. Okay? So you’ve got to stay away. This shit is crazy right now and you and Patrick just need to keep your necks out of this. Not because I’m, like, an asshole or something. But because this might be dangerous.” That was bullshit Frank knew that this was, beyond a doubt, fucking dangerous. There was not a single outcome for this that wasn’t going to end with a body bag or two being dragged into an ambulance and tossed into the dirt. Frank didn’t want to die. He didn’t want to fucking die. But he didn’t want Ryan to die either.

 _“I just don’t get it,”_ Pete sighed. _“Ryan doesn’t keep secrets from me. Ryan has never kept secrets from me. What the fuck could be so serious that Pat and I can’t help him? Why can’t he just…”_ Pete trailed off with a head sigh. _“I know you might not know what it’s like,”_ he said. _“To watch a friend pull away from you, but if you do? I'm sorry you’ve ever had to go through it. This kind if pain and rejection sucks.”_

Frank bit his lip as he listened to Pete.

_“It’s like, even after everything that we’ve done and been through, he suddenly doesn’t need me anymore. I held that boy in his darkest moments, he and Patrick and I watched Disney movies and kept him awake when the nightmares were too much. We kept that kid fucking safe, and now he’s pulling away.”_

“I don’t think he’s been doing that,” Frank said, even though he sounded unsure. “I mean, isn’t this, like, the first time he’s kept something from you?”

 _“But it could be the first of many,”_ Pete almost whimpered. _“What if he keeps hiding things from me? What if he keeps pulling away, further and further, until he’s on this dumb little island, all by himself, playing that guitar and singing those sad songs and ignoring all the life vests and speed boats and airplanes I send to him? What if he isolates himself, Frank? Fuck.”_

Pete was silent for a moment, but Frank waited. _“You don’t know some stuff,”_ Pete said. _“And that’s okay, just, you cannot let Ryan isolate himself, okay? If he tries to pull away from you too and hide himself from everyone, you cannot let him do that. Ryan needs to stay with other people, mentally and physically, when things go bad in his life. You can’t let him be alone. Please. I-I don’t know if he doesn’t want that from us anymore or something, but if that’s the case, then you need to replace me. You need to take care of him.”_

“He’s not done with you guys,” Frank sighed. 

 _“Do you know what this feels like?”_ Pete asked. _“To have your best friend turn his back on you and keep secrets when you used to be the one he would tell his secrets to?”_

“I had a friend back in Jersey,” Frank said. “His name was Bob. For a really long time, he was my friend, until he got a girlfriend and suddenly couldn’t give a shit about my anymore. He turned down invitation after invitation. He fucking gave all of his time to that girl.”

 _“What happened?”_ Pete asked.

“What else? The girl dumped him. They dated for three months and she dumped him harder than a sack of bricks. He wasn’t what she wanted even after he’d given her everything he had. And he was absolutely crushed afterwards, so you know what I did?”

_“What did you do?”_

“I was there for him. I let him come over and play video games and we set things on fire in the park. We snuck out and got junk food past curfew and even out ran the police, once. I was there for him, even after he abandoned me. And if you honestly think Ryan’s on the verge of abandoning you— which he isn’t— then you gotta take the higher ground and be there for him once he comes back.”

Pete sighed raggedly, making the phone let out a bit of static. _“God, Frank, why has everything gone so wrong?”_

“What’s gone wrong?” Frank had to ask because he was pretty sure Pete and Patrick knew nothing about what had been happening. He didn’t know what could be going so wrong in Pete’s life that he needed to lament so wildly. 

_“You guys just seem like you’re going through something hard.”_

Frank ran a hand through his hair. “… I’ll talk to Ryan, okay? He doesn’t want to leave you in the dark, he just doesn’t want to drag you into anything scary either. It’s not because he doesn’t trust you or something. I promise.”

_“Tell Ryan I said hi…”_

Frank said he would and hung up.

. . .

Ryan cleaned up his house with the monotony of a stay at home mom cleaning up after her kids. He scrubbed away at the blood like none of it mattered, put away the splintered and broken wood and ignoring the holes in the walls, swept away the glass and threw out all the furniture that couldn’t be saved like it wasn’t his home he was cleaning, just some broken place.

No one touched Ryan’s dad.

He lay in a grotesque pile on the floor, collecting dust and attracting flies. Frank understood Ryan was fucked up over this, but he felt like just leaving Mr. Ross on the floor was worse. It was like Ryan was ignoring him entirely, like if he was in denial, his father would come back. If he just pretended it had never happened, it would change the future. Frank couldn’t understand why he would think that, though. If anything, letting Mr. Ross’s body decay in the middle of the room would only make things harder. Like when they finally did pick him up to move him to his final resting place, he’d be decomposed and squishy and the air pockets in his body would burst. Not to mention the smell that was already permeating the house. The endless rains of Oregon didn’t make for a clean decomposition. 

He found himself staring at Mr. Ross’s body as the sun set and the way his bones glistened even with the blood already dry. He wondered how this poor man felt when he died. He wondered if that technically mattered at all after death. He wondered if he would end up like that.

“We need to do something about your dad,” he told Ryan as Ryan tried to see if the oven still worked because he wanted to make a pizza. “He’s been there for too long, Ryan. You won’t be able to get the stains out of the floors.”

“I’ll throw a rug down,” Ryan said. 

“We can’t ignore this,” Frank said. “There are so many diseases attached to his body. And having him here is making Gerard lose it.” Gerard had been cleaning the same corner for about an hour just so he wouldn’t have to turn around and see the corpse. “And I’m worried for what this is doing to your psyche too. You’ve got your dead father in the middle of the floor and we need to bury him, but you’re too scared. This shit isn’t healthy, Ryan. We have to bury him or something. We have to get put him to rest.” He was trying to be sensitive in his approach to make Ryan more likely to listen.

“I’m not finished yet,” Ryan told him.

Frank waited for more. “Finished what? What is there to finish? The house? Ryan, this is gonna take, like, weeks We can’t wait weeks.”

“No, I’m not done with his eulogy,” Ryan said with an exasperated sigh.

“His eulogy?”  Ryan nodded. “What I’m gonna say when he dies, too. What needs to go above the grave. He was my father, Frank. He deserves a proper and official burial that honored him as a person and my father. I need to make sure the funeral is worth of what he was to me. And I need to make sure that I give a funeral worthy of the good he’s done for the world and for me.”

Ryan turned around to face Frank. “Do you know what he did when I came out as gay? He smiled at me, rubbed my back, told me it was okay to be me, and then signed up for one of those coalition of parents with gay kids so he could get a bumper sticker. I told him I didn’t want to come out to everyone else, so he put the bumper sticker on the back of the guitar he bought me so I wouldn’t forget that he loved me regardless. He still taught me how to defend myself, we still went camping every Thanksgiving, and he still hugged me and shit whenever I was upset. He truly and honestly didn’t care that I was some fucking faggot under his roof. He still loved me and then…”

Ryan’s eyes shuttered closed and Frank was afraid he was about to stop talking. “… When that thing had his hands around my neck, I looked into its eyes and… I think I saw my dad in there. Not in the eyes, that wasn’t him anymore. But beyond them. I saw my dad still inside there. He was crying and screaming for me to run. He was in pain, I think. In agony. He wanted to die but he wanted me to escape even more. And he couldn’t do anything to save me.”

Ryan visibly shuddered and sat back on the tile. The floor was still pretty dirty, but Frank figured Ryan didn’t care if his jeans got ruined. “I don’t want to think about how horrified he was to be hurting me like that, but I can’t stop. Can you imagine it? Watching from the outside in as your own body strangles the person you love? Knowing it’s gonna be your DNA all over the body? Your hands that leave the bruises? Even when you would never do that did you have a choice. Because that’s what happened. That thing took the choice from my father. And that’s just… that’s just wrong.”

“We need to bury him, Ryan,” Frank insisted gently.

Ryan sighed and hung his head in his hands. “… Frank, I don’t know if I can.”

“Why not?”

“Because once I bury him, it’ll be a lot harder for him to come back.”

Frank hesitated. “… Ryan, that’s fucking crazy talk.”

“Is it?” Ryan asked. “Dude, demons are real. Meaning Satan is real. Meaning there are definitely ways to bring someone back from the dead.”

“Holy shit, you’re insane,” Frank said. “Haven’t you seen Cat Cemetery? Don’t you know what happens?”

Ryan pressed his dirty hands to his eyes. “Frank, I’m a fucking orphan, so please forgive me for trying to think of some way to fucking fix that while I also struggle to cope with the idea that there are such things as monsters and the afterlife and an asshole god that doesn’t fucking care when evil things come down here, take over fucking bodies, and make them kill other people.”

“Maybe there isn’t a God,” Frank suggested. “Just a devil.”

“Maybe we’re in hell and we just don’t know it,” Ryan snorted. “Maybe the world I see when I close my eyes is one of the possible realities to exist. Maybe Donald Trump is a genius. Maybe Elvis really is dead! Who the fuck knows, Frank, it doesn’t change the fact that my dad is fucking dead and all this demon shit may just have enough black magic to change that!”

“You can’t mess with that stuff,” Gerard said, walking up from behind Frank and speaking shakily. “You can’t, Ryan. They promise things that they’ll never hold true to and then just take what they want from you. Like, say, you want a Lamborghini— they’ll promise you that car, give it to you for about all of three seconds, and then make a car accident that kills you so they can claim your soul early. They’ll trick you, Ryan, and make a fool of you just so they can have your soul.”

“Then I’ll give them something else,” Ryan said. “Like a fucking fruit basket or gold.”

“They only deal in souls, Ryan,” Gerard sighed. “I’m sorry this is happening. I’m so sorry. You’re a good kid. You don’t deserve this, no one does, but you can’t just try to bring back a dead person and hope it’ll work out, because it won’t. Ryan, you can’t touch that stuff.”

“And so my dad just gets to exist in whatever plane of awful you go to after being possessed?” Ryan scowled. “That doesn’t sound like the fucking ending my dad deserves. I can’t accept this Gerard, and you know that. I’ve left him on the floor just to finish my fucking eulogy for him, you think I’m gonna let him exist in that hell?”

“There’s no evidence to suggest that there’s an afterlife,” Gerard said, contradicting Frank. “While texts and all that say there is, I-I’ve never died. Never experienced death. I don’t think there’s anything there, guys, so… I think he just died.”

“That doesn’t make sense,” Ryan said. 

“You’re a fucking atheist, how does that not make sense?” Frank asked. “Sometimes people just fucking die. You’ve never had a problem with that before.”

“Because if the energy of demons and shit exist in a plane that I can’t fucking see, then that means they’re a secondary plane in general,” Ryan stressed. “They have to exist and be visible somewhere, and since it’s not here, it’s got to be in an afterlife sort of place, right? To fit into the whole demon thing.”

“Maybe demons are just the title humans gave things they couldn’t understand long ago,” Gerard suggested. “Maybe they saw inkings of things they couldn’t handle and gave it a title that became more as intelligence and education progressed. Maybe these things have always existed alongside us, but we couldn’t see it, like how we can only see a limited spectrum of colors when the Mantis Shrimp can see, like nine more than us. We can only see 3, you know? Red, blue, green. It can see twelve! So maybe the demons existed like that and people got glimpses in moments of weird drugs or something like acid trips and then gave them a name to explain what scared them and make it more manageable. Easier to stomach.”

Ryan scowled. “God, Frank, I’m way too fucked up over my dead fucking dad to even think about how you’re contradicting yourself with every other statement.”

“You just can’t rely on the black magic,” Gerard said. “They’ll cheat you out of it and you’ll never get your father back. What I’m trying to say is that these things might not even have control over death, meaning they can’t bring anyone back, they could just say they can. There’s much more to lose in that stuff than there is to gain.” Gerard moved forward and rested a hand on Ryan’s shoulder to comfort him. Frank was surprised when he didn’t brush it off. “Ryan, I-I know it has to be hard, but the best thing you can do is focus all of that anger on making sure nothing like this happens to anyone ever again. Okay?”

All of Ryan’s anger died in a few second and was replaced with this aching sadness that Frank knew shouldn’t be on the face of someone as young as Ryan. Ryan slumped forward and rested his head on Gerard’s shoulder, a silent request that made Gerard’s eyes blow wide open, like he was shocked Ryan was asking. He wrapped is arms around Ryan and pulled him into a hug and stared at Frank with a look of disbelief. Frank didn’t say anything as Ryan started to cry. It was a long time coming.

“I don’t want to be alone,” Ryan choked out.

“You’re staying with me,” Frank reminded him. “My mom isn’t that great, but she loves kids all the same. She’ll probably like you more than she likes me. And she’ll feed you when you need it and you can sleep in my room, cool? You won’t be alone. She won’t even ask questions.”

“I wonder what people will think when my dad just doesn’t show up to work,” Ryan said. “I wonder if they’ll stop me in the streets and ask me where he is. I wonder if I’ll break down in front of them and cry on in the streets.” Ryan let out this wet laugh. “I wonder if I should even bother showing my face in public again…”

“Don’t let this control the rest of your life,” Gerard advised. “Don’t let this be the only thing you are.”

“These things killed my dad,” Ryan said. “It’s too late for that.”

. . .

Ryan told Frank and Gerard not to touch the pieces of the corpse, saying they were his to handle. Frank and Gerard had readily agreed and just watched.

It was fucking horrifying. 

Watching Ryan sort through his father’s own limbs and take them into the back where he had made a small, shitty looking funeral pyre atop a bunch of dirt that used to nurture flowers and fruits. It was harrowing. Disgusting. Frank could feel his sanity just trickle away out of his eye sockets and ears. He wanted to scratch at his skin until it was raw and he had no explanation as to why.

“I wanna see Mikey,” Gerard whispered beside him, watching Ryan like he was watching a gory execution. “I need to see my brother.”

“Tomorrow,” Frank promised, though it could’ve easily been a lie.

Ryan brought in his father’s fucking hand and Frank almost vomited. God, fuck, that was a person. That was a person that Frank had known. He’d met this guy and talked to him and now he was in literal pieces in the dirt, about to be burned in some weird ritual humans did to show respect when really they just wanted to avoid diseases. 

“Do you have any matches?” Ryan asked Frank. Frank had a weird sense of deja vu as he shook his head.

“I do,” Gerard said. “I have a lighter.” He pulled the plastic from his pocket and held it out to Ryan. Ryan took it, then grabbed the canister of kerosene he’d pulled out of the back shed of his destroyed back yard. He doused his father’s body methodically and made sure to cover every inch of bloody flesh with kerosene. The more Frank looked at the body, the less human it looked. “Ryan,” Gerard called out, moving forward and staring at the limbs with queasiness. “Do you want someone else to do this?”

Ryan snorted. “You and Frank would just throw up on him. I don’t want that to happen.” He flicked on the lighter. “I’ll buy you a knew one,” he told Gerard before throwing the lighter onto his dad’s skull and let him catch fire. 

“I wanna say a few things,” Ryan said after a few seconds of watching the flames spread. “But nothing I can say will make this any better. Nothing I can say will bring him back, and nothing I can say will convince you guys to let me try. Nothing I can say does anything and none of this fucking matters.”

“It does matter,” Frank argued.

“He’s fucking gone,” Ryan said.

“I’d like to say a few words,” Gerard cut in hesitantly. He took a tentative step closer to the sickening warmth. Burning flesh smelled terrible. “One night, when I was sleeping over at Ryan’s place with Mikey, Mr. Ross found me crying in the bathroom. I-I was crying because I thought my brother was a better friend to people than I was. Everyone liked hanging out with him more than me. I was scared that one day Mikey would take everyone away from me with him and I would die alone. I was jealous and stupid and it was dumb, but Mr. Ross didn’t make fun of me. He told me that there will always be people who like you and people who don’t. Same for Mikey. And in the end, p-people who like me more will stay. No one is meant to die alone. No one is going to be alone forever. He told me that I would find someone perfect for me one day and once I did, all of that pain and loneliness wouldn’t matter. It would just be a nightmare.”

Gerard bit his lip and wrung his fingers in his shirt. “I don’t know if I’ve found that person yet, but I know what he told me that night is something that will never leave my mind. And he made me patient enough to wait. So, I-I want to thank him for taking the time to be the father I never had and tell me the truth in that moment.” Gerard sniffled and Frank saw tears roll down Gerard’s cheek, reflecting the fire light. “Goodbye, Mr. Ross,” he sobbed. “You were a better person than anyone I’ve ever met.”

Frank looked past the black smoke of a human being and saw that Ryan’s tree house had been burnt into ashes and left mangled on the ground. 

. . .

“I brought macaroni and cheese,” Frank said as he walked into his room where Ryan was lying in bed, where a pair of Frank’s too-short pajama pants and a huge shirt that used to be his mom’s work out shirt. “My mom wanted to make sure you weren't hungry anymore. She was worried you were lying.” 

“Smart woman,” Ryan said dully as he read a comic book just to look like he was doing something. 

“She’s annoying,” Frank said. “All she does is hover and ask questions and get on my ass about everything. I should just get a regular job and let those people boss me around instead. At least I’d be getting paid.”

“Don’t take your mother’s love for-granted,” Ryan said. “She could be gone before you know it.”

Frank stared at Ryan for a moment too long and felt a little sick again. “So, uh…” he cleared his throat and brought the food to the bed. “You really should eat. I mean, you’ve done a lot of heavy lifting.” He immediately saw how tactless that was and winced. “I mean, uh, not like that. At all. You’ve just, there’s… A lot of wood and shit that you lifted.”

“You can say it,” Ryan said in monotone. “I burnt my dad’s dismembered corpse today. I still smell like burning flesh. So do you.” He sighed and rolled onto his back looking up at Frank’s ceiling. “Everything seems white,” he said. “But not the color. Or absence of color. Or all colors. Everything’s white like it’s been washed out and drained.” Ryan rolled back onto his side and didn’t say anything for a moment. “… Think I’ll ever be okay again, Frankie? Think I’ll ever be normal? I’ve lost so much…”

“Who have you lost?” Frank knew he shouldn’t have been asking that, but there'd been so many allusions.

Ryan shook his head and started to blink away tears.

“Eat your macaroni,” Frank said. “We’re gonna finish cleaning the place tomorrow and then Pete wants to hang out. He’s scared you’re trying to leave him behind. I get that shit is hard, but he could really help you.”

“I’m not gonna graduate,” Ryan said. “I’m gonna travel the world and kill these things.”  Frank sighed. “Why don’t you eat your macaroni and sleep on it?”

Ryan took a half hearted forkful of macaroni and then lied back down. “Night, Frankie,” he murmured. “Thanks for letting me stay with you.”

“Anything for a friend,” he replied.

Ryan looked up at Frank. “… Where are you sleeping?”

“I was gonna take the floor.”

Ryan shook his head and pat the bed beside him. “I know it’s weird,” he said when Frank hesitated. “But I would really appreciate the company. The last thing I want to be right now is alone, and I’m gonna feel pretty fucking alone tonight if one of my closest friends fucking refuses to sleep in the same bed as me.”

Frank’s brow shot up. “Closest friend?”

Ryan shrugged. “More of a friend than Gerard. And after the shit we’ve been through together, you kinda shoot past a lot of people.” He pat the bed again. “C’mon. Just cause we both like dick doesn’t mean we’re obligated to fuck while sharing a bed.”

Frank snorted a laugh and finally crawled onto his bed. He would’ve been lying if he’d said he was looking forward to sleeping on the floor. He hated sleeping on the floor just like he hated camping. He had a comfy mattress for a reason, and humanity had evolved to using mattress for another reason altogether. It was dumb to sleep uncomfortably if you could help it, and Ryan was inviting him, so why the fuck not? Frank lied atop the covers until Ryan sent him a look that said he was an idiot. Frank under the covers as well. He kicked his foot out as he struggled to get comfortable and dragged one of his toe nails over Ryan’s calves.

“Oh my god, your freaky-ass long toenails, what the fuck,” Ryan babbled, kicking back. “When was the last time you cut those? Are they even nails or are they fucking claws? Are you some kind of troll? You’re short enough.”

“Fuck you, Ross,” Frank snorted, kicking again. “My toenails are the appropriate length.”

“You’re gonna cut me in your sleep and then I’m gonna have to get a tetanus shot,” Ryan huffed.

Frank shoved a pillow in his face and told him to, “go the fuck to sleep.”

. . .

“Oh my gosh, this place is a mess!” Pete gasped as he let himself in through the broken front door into Ryan’s house. Ryan tensed and became almost aggressive, but Frank wasn’t that worried. All th blood was cleaned up. It mostly looked like Ryan’s house had been ransacked and robbed, something Frank was used to back in Jersey. He was sure they could come up with a good lie. Until Patrick followed Pete in. Frank knew they weren’t going to be able to get anything past him.

Patrick narrowed his eyes critically as he looked over Ryan. “You okay?” he asked, sounding like he already knew Ryan wasn’t okay. 

Ryan just nodded stiffly and kept sweeping up shards of glass they hadn’t been able to see in the setting sun the night before. “What’re you guys doing here?” he asked, trying not to sound too much like he wished they were gone. Pete’s face visibly fell regardless, and Ryan sighed. “Not like that, Pete,” he said. “I just… Some bad stuff happened. I don’t wanna drag you into it.”

“That’s what Frank said,” Pete mumbled. “But I’m not that kind of friend. You can’t toss me aside. I-I’m supposed to mean more than that.”

“Jesus, Pete, cool the melodrama,” Patrick huffed. He rubbed Pete’s back soothingly, though, to give him comfort. Frank was always a little confused by how much Patrick contradicted his words in a span of a few actions. “Let Ryan explain himself.” Patrick was still watching Ryan, daring him to lie. 

“Someone broke into my home and killed my dad,” Ryan said, shocking both Gerard and Frank. “I burned him in the backyard.”

Pete and Patrick didn’t say anything. “… Am I supposed to start laughing now?” Pete asked shakily, looking afraid of the truth. Patrick looked like he wished Ryan had lied. “Oh my god, Ryan, is he really…” Pete looked to the backyard like it was burning anyways. 

“I’m staying with Frank right now,” Ryan told them. “We’re trying to clean up my house.”

“I’m so sorry,” Patrick said, sounding like he was in a daze, like he was going into shock again.

“It happened,” Ryan replied, sounding like he really didn’t care. Frank almost wished Ryan didn’t, because then the way Ryan had started crying in the middle of the night wouldn’t haunt him. “I gave him a funeral. Now I’m trying to fix my house.” He looked down at his broom for a second. “… Would you like to help?”

Pete looked so fucking relieved that he wasn’t being sent away. He nodded and almost stumbled forward, wrapping Ryan up in a tight bear hug. “You know I adore you,” Pete said. “You’re my best friend. I don’t want to see you suffer alone when I can do something to make it better.”

“I know, Pete,” Ryan sighed. “You’re a nurse through and through.”

Pete sniffled and Frank was a little exasperated when he realized Pete was fucking crying, jesus. Why Would Pete cry over this? Pete was fucking weird. Patrick sighed and looked around the place before nodding. “We can fix this. I’ll get paint from the story. Pete, you should stay and estimate how much wood we’re gonna need to cover the holes here. Uh, I’ll get some nails, too, and some spackle. Also something to make this place smell nice.” He looked up. “… And lightbulbs.”

“Thank you, Patrick,” Ryan said, sounding sincere. “Really. I-I don’t actually know how to do any of this stuff.”

“Weren’t you supposed to be the survivalist?” Patrick asked dryly.

“Only in caves,” Ryan replied. “And the apocalypse. But the supplies store down the street run by the old couple that has an electric fence around their front lawn? That’s beyond my training.”

“I’ll get something to make a headstone, too,” Patrick said, softening his tone. “I can carve it. I’ll make it look really nice.” He paused. “… Are you gonna tell the police?”

“So they can do nothing?” Pete snorted. “Not a fucking chance, right, Ryan?” Ryan nodded and Pete looked back to Patrick. “Say what you want. I know your uncle is a cop, but those guys don’t don shit. Not he ones here. They’ll listen, write a report, and then throw the report into the abyss. They’re useless.”

Patrick just huffed and started to make a list on his hand with an eye liner pen he’d pulled from Pete’s back pocket. “I’ll get wood and nails and pant and spackle and maybe some food. Probably some food.” He looked to Pete. “Keys?”

Pete slipped the keys into Pete’s hand, then kissed Patrick’s cheek gently. Patrick didn’t look very upset from the affection, but still didn’t crack a smile. Pete seemed to adore the stony expression and giggled happily, prancing away like a loon. Pete went to the walls and started trying to pull out mangled pieces of wood. “Geez, did they take a sledgehammer to this place?” Pete tried to joke. It was weak. “So messy.”

Ryan tightened his grip on the broom and didn’t say anything.

. . .

“They care about you,” Frank said to him softly as the sun began to set. “They really fucking do, Ryan. And you can’t shut them out.”

“I can’t sign their death sentence, either.”

Frank couldn’t argue. He firmly believed Ryan would die if he tried to hunt these fucking monsters down. He didn’t know what he could say that wouldn’t be a lie.

“I’m doing that ouija thing Gerard does,” Ryan said. “I’m gonna find out what’s going on. I’m going to a priest and finding out what the fuck is going on. I’m gonna get to the bottom of this, find out who has been calling the shots, and end them and this whole shitty operation. I’ll bring them to their fucking knees.”

“How can you be so sure it’s, like, an organization?”

“This is the only place to be riddled with possessions,” Ryan said. “There has to be something else going on.”

Frank sighed and tried to argue when Gerard burst into their space, looking shaken to the core. “Guys,” he choked out. “Holy shit, g-guys.”

“What’s wrong?” Frank asked with a frown. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to hear any of the bad news that had shaken Gerard up enough to make him look like he was on something fucking mind altering.

“I, I was doing the ouija thing,” Gerard began. “Which is kinda like this thing where I latch onto the remnants of the last victims and capture glimpses of the thoughts of the thing had when it was possessing the dead person and that allows me to sort of see the next target, figure out the plan, you know? A-and I did that just to set it up for Ryan and have answered, b-but… The next person…”

“Who is it?” Ryan asked. 

“Maybe we can find a way to protect them before the thing gets them,” Frank suggested.

“Maybe we can trap it inside the person and torture information out of it,” Ryan also suggested. Frank wanted to push him or something so he would realize how fucked up that was to suggest.

“It’s Josh,” Gerard choked out.

Ryan’s expression was wiped clean and Frank knew he was rethinking his sick plan. He wasn’t sure if Ryan even actually knew Josh, but he was sure the kid had to mean something to Ryan. How else would the kid know him well enough to be into him? You couldn’t just crush on random people without noticing them first, right?

“We have to stop this from happening,” Gerard said when he realized Ryan couldn’t think of anything to say. “We, we have the power to stop this stuff now, right? We have to save Josh.”

“Are you saying you knew about my dad?” Ryan asked lowly, voice low and dangerous. Gerard froze, eyes going wide like a deer about to have its neck snapped by metal and rust going eighty miles an hour.

“I, I didn’t,” Gerard said, but it was weak. “I didn’t. I’m sorry.”

“Guys, we need to find Josh,” Frank stressed, looking between the two of them.

“There’s a game going on tonight,” Ryan told him stiffly, still staring Gerard down like he was capable of something evil. Ryan grabbed his bat that he tended to keep at his side these days and jabbed a finger in Gerard’s direction.

“If I find out you kept what was going to happen to my father from me,” Ryan said slowly. “You’re going to meet the same end as these fucking monsters.” 

When Ryan looked, Gerard looked to Frank with fear. 

Frank knew he couldn’t help him.


	6. These Twisted Sisters with Cherry Bomb Eyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Josh goes through hell and Gerard's the one to pull him out

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> betaed by the lovely **CemeteryDriveThru**
> 
> Song rec: _"Help I'm Alive" by The Metric_

“I just don’t know why you need my car so late,” Pete said as he drove the three of them. “And leaving Patrick behind, too! You’ve made me leave my muffin of love.”

Ryan had insisted on only Pete coming in the car, on the off chance that something got out of the school. He argued that Pete would be a lot more grateful to know they had thought to protect Patrick by omission, even if Frank thought all of this was pointless. If demons wanted to kill them all, demons would kill them all. Leaving Patrick a few miles back wasn’t going to save him. 

“And you hated that one football game,” Pete continued, tightening his grip on the steering wheel. “Honestly, I’m wondering how you guys can even stomach going back. I-I don’t want to see that stadium ever again. And I’ve got another year before I graduate!” Pete laughed uncomfortably. “I just, I don’t know. Doesn’t feel right ever since everything went wrong.”

“Everything’s been wrong for a long time,” Ryan said. “I just started caring.”

Pete bit his lip. “… Maybe you should stop caring,” he suggested as he pulled into the nearly empty parking lot of the campus. The football game had ended half an hour ago, Frank’s school winning by a brutal landslide. Frank wasn’t sure if it was a good or a bad thing if they were so late. 

“All the football team cars are still here. Pete, you stay,” Ryan told Pete. He threw open the side door of the van and climbed out with his bat in hand, mouth set in a grim line. Frank followed with Gerard close behind, who had his fucking rosary and bible with a bunch of pieces of paper between the pages and the water bottle of holy water tucked into his jeans. Pete eyed the bible suspiciously and Frank tried not to feel embarrassed under his scrutiny. 

“Just what do you guys think is gonna happen?” Pete asked slowly, like he was finally making sense of the situation and how fucking crazy this was. “And Ry? Why do you have a bat?”

“Leave if you see people running,” Ryan said. The three of them trudged to the building and Frank saw birds fly away from the school all at once, like an outwards burst of colored oil in milk. Frank looked down and didn’t see any bugs. Thank fucking god. 

“Hey, guys!” 

Frank’s head snapped up from the ground as a guy came towards them with short hair and a shirt that looked like a dalmatian’s coat.

“Didn’t see you guys at the game. You need something?”

“Tyler, where’s Josh?” Ryan asked. 

“He’s in the showers,” Tyler replied. “Last one off the field, last one to get clean. He does that sometimes. He likes having the showers to himself. Why, what’s up? You wanna join him?” At Ryan’s annoyed look, Tyler snickered. “I’m kidding. But seriously, he’s in the shower. Where’s the fire?”

“Take us to him,” Ryan ordered.

Tyler made a sputtering noise as Ryan took him by the upper arm and pulled him back into the school. Frank and Gerard traded anxious glances, both of them wondering if it was a good idea to have such a high strung Ryan Ross calling the shots. Tyler eventually stopped fumbling with protests and led them to the showers. They passed what had to be the entire football team on the way, all of them tired and walking like they were half awake. The fluorescent lights were getting dimmer the deeper into the school they got, and Frank’s skin began to crawl.

“Frankie,” Gerard breathed, pointing to the floor. Crickets and spiders, though only a few, were going in the opposite direction they were heading. Frank wanted to groan aloud. Of fucking course. He was going to have to get used to being less intelligent than insects. Heading towards the danger instead of running away.

“He’s in here,” Tyler said. “I can hear the shower running.” Tyler pushed open the bathroom door of the gym showers and stepped inside, unperturbed by the wall of steam that hit him. “Joshy!” he called out. “You’ve got some friends here for you. Hope it’s not too weird!”

Ryan pushed past Tyler into the bathroom, and Frank and Gerard followed him. Frank didn’t want Tyler going in first. 

“Josh?” Ryan called out, rounding the corners of the lockers slowly, checking all the corners and making sure he was the first one in the way. “Josh, it’s Ryan… You in here?” Frank could hear the shower running, far away and muffled, probably the furthest shower. The showers at this school were communal, ten or so shower heads all in one tiled room that had no barriers. Frank hated these kinds of showers because he definitely didn’t like showing his body to anyone. Frank was uncomfortable just being in here with memories of his old school, fucking possible possession aside. “Josh,” Ryan repeated, a little softer, like he was trying to coax him out. “Just wanna see if you’re okay…”

“Why wouldn’t he be okay?” Tyler asked cautiously. 

“Josh!” Ryan repeated, a little louder. He rounded the last corner, the one hiding the showers from view, then stopped. “… Josh?”

Frank looked around the concrete wall to the tile floor and stiffened. 

Josh was standing under the spray, naked from the waist up, wearing his uniform pants. His socks still on his feet. He was standing under the spray with an unnatural bend to his shoulders, like they were hunched inwards and crowding his chest. His spine moved with his breathing and his toes were turned inwards. He just kept staring up into the water. Frank was worried about him getting burnt. The water looked scalding hot with the amount of steam coming from the water.

“Josh?” Tyler whimpered, looking very scared. “What’s wrong?”

Josh twitched, his entire spine jerking inside his flesh like a giant worm, before his body slumped to the left. Josh’s head smacked against the tile and he dragged his forehead across the wall, walking backwards towards them with an uneven gait. Tyler started to back away and Ryan tightened his hold on his bat. 

Josh started to turn his head, but not his body. When Frank started to see bones protest, he lurched forward without thinking and forced Josh’s shoulders around with his body, making Josh face him naturally.

Josh’s eyes widened and he snapped his teeth out at Frank, trying to get a chunk of his fucking face. 

“What the fuck are you doing?” Ryan demanded, pulling Frank back and out of reach of Josh, who was still pressing his forehead to the wet tiles and letting out soft coos and groans, snarling deep in his throat.

“If he snaps his own fucking neck, we won’t be able to save him,” Frank gasped, holding his hands up to keep Josh away, even though the boy had dragged his gaze from Frank to Ryan to Gerard to Tyler. Josh smiled like the skin of his face was being pulled to the sides when he saw Tyler looked afraid. 

“Josh?” Tyler called out shakily. “What’s wrong? A-are you sick?”

“You need do stay back,” Gerard said, putting himself between Tyler and Josh. Josh still kept staring at Tyler. Frank stepped between Gerard and Josh and tried really fucking hard not to let Josh see how unnerved he was by the way Josh was starting to twitch.

“Who are you?” Ryan demanded.    
“Ryan, don’t fucking ask it that!” Gerard hissed, eyes wide. 

“Murmur,” Josh said, his voice low and sultry and layered, like a woman was whispering the words with him, deep within his chest. “My name is Murmur. You look so angry… Do you not want me to hurt this boy?”

“What the hell is going on?” Tyler asked, voice trembling.

“You get the fuck out of him,” Ryan growled, staring Murmur down. “You fucking hear me? He’s not yours, none of these people are. We’re not your fucking toys.”

Murmur laughed gently and Frank was disturbingly reminded of his mother. “You poor boys,” she cooed, sounding like she pitied them. “Your naivety is something that I will always admire in your kind.” She stood to her full height— Josh’s full height— and approached Ryan slowly with sultry steps, a vast contrast to the diseased twitches from before. “Do you like this body? Do you think it’s beautiful? He thinks that of you.” She ran Josh’s hands down Josh’s chest like she was appraising him. “Poor thing. Poor wicked thing.”

“Get out of him,” Ryan seethed, holding up the bat.

“Only if you give me yours in return,” she simpered, leering at Ryan. “Or him.” She pointed to Gerard. “I could probably do a lot more in his pretty little skin bag. With who his brother is, I’d likely find myself at the top of the food chain in no time.”

“You know Mikey?” Gerard asked.

“Enough talk,” Ryan snapped. He grabbed the water bottle of holy water from Gerard’s back pocket and twisted off the cap, splashing it in Josh’s face. Murmur screamed and held Josh’s face, skin bubbling like it was boiling. Murmur dropped to her knees and kept screaming, scrabbling at Josh’s face like she was trying to rub away the water with her now boiling hands. Tyler let out this noise of panic and tried to get past Frank and Gerard to go to Josh, only seeing his best friend in pain, but Frank held him back. 

_“You will pay for this!”_ Murmur shrieked, lifting her head to look to them with red filling the white of Josh’s eyes. The room started to shake and Tyler slipped and fell, bringing Gerard down with him. “I’ll have your corpses on pikes! I’ll feed your hearts to your mothers!”

Ryan dumped half the bottle on Josh’s face. 

“In the name of god, I remit the sins of the person,” Ryan began to recite, completely from fucking memory, which shocked Frank. Frank dropped to the floor and tried to help pull Gerard up, who was flailing a little too much to stand on his own two feet any time soon. “I cut every foul spirit from this person with the word of the spirit. Demons, I command you to come out of the mouth now and never come back in God’s name. Go to the pit! Up and out! I send holy spirit fire to burn you a thousand times hotter than the flames of hell! I send holy spirit fire all over your body in the might name of god! I send holy spirit fire all over the room, the floor and the ceiling. Fire from head to toe!”

He splashed the last of the holy water on Murmur’s skin, who continued to scream and cry and writhe on the floor. “Father in heaven, send power from the third heaven to destroy these demons. I trample on you demons and shatter your being. Warrior angels, hook into the demons and rip them apart. Send the demons to the pit in God’s name. Warrior angels, flog the demons and choke them out. Send the demons to the pit in god’s name.”

Ryan snatched the rosary from Gerard’s shaking grip and pressed it to Josh’s boiling forehead. “Send the demons to the pit in god’s name!”

Frank held his breath and shut his eyes, waiting for the room to go black again as the demon would leave Josh’s body. He waited in silence, but nothing happened. Light shown red through his eyelids. Murmur began to laugh.

“Why didn’t that work?” Ryan asked, sounding bewildered.

Frank opened his eyes in time to see Murmur flick Josh’s wrist and send Ryan flying across the showers, slamming his body into the tiled wall with a thump. Ryan slumped to the tile, out cold.

Gerard scrambled across the tile to try and pick up the rosary again, but Josh’s hand slammed down on Gerard’s arm and Gerard cried out in pain as his elbow hit the tile with a crack. 

“You’ll taste as good as your brother,” Murmur growled, pulling Gerard towards her by the arm. “You’ll taste like fear and promise. You’ll taste like the evil of the world and it will be as beautiful as the beginning.” Then Murmur grabbed Gerard by the jaw and pulled him in for a bruising kiss, pulling at his lower lip with her teeth and laughing as Gerard struggled to pull away. 

Frank saw red and shot to his feet, kicking Murmur in the fucking jaw and sending her to the wall, head hitting the tile hard. 

“Josh!” Tyler cried out, still somehow worried for his friend. Gerard kicked at the floor to crawl away from her, nursing a split lip and looking like he wanted to cry. His hand lifted to his lips and his fingers were shaking as he kept crawling away until his back hit a wall and he couldn’t move away any more.

“You’ll pay for that,” Murmur moaned, Josh’s hair plastered to the wall with a trickle of red running down to the floor to the drain. “I’ll make you pay…”

“Tyler, get back,” Frank said as the room started to shake again. The wall chipped like the foundation of the room couldn’t hold up the ceiling anymore. 

“Leave him,” Gerard suddenly gasped, crawling back towards Murmur. Murmur lifted Josh’s hand and looked to Frank, eyes red again, and something pinched inside Frank’s head. He brought his hand to his head and pressed this temple, where it felt like someone was twisting the flesh of his brain. But that couldn't be what was happening.

White creeped in at the edges of his vision and he tasted iron. 

“Oh god, Frankie,” Gerard gasped, his voce sounding far away and like he was underwater. Frank dragged his eyes to Gerard with great effort and found he was having trouble remembering how to breathe. “Let him go!” Gerard shouted at Murmur. Murmur flinched bodily and confusion flashed across Josh’s face. Frank watched the world suddenly change and he realized he’d dropped to the floor. His head hurt like a thousand nails being pressed into his skull at once. He had this idea that if he shot himself in the head, it would relieve the pressure and the pain would go away.

“Let go of him!” Gerard shouted again, crawling towards Josh on all fours. “Let go!”

Murmur was staring at Gerard like she was suddenly afraid of him. Black trickled from her lips.

“I said let go!” Gerard shouted one final time. The room went suddenly dark and that roaring was back, seeping into Frank’s bones and making his blood veins run cold. He curled his knees to the chest on the ground, trembling, listening to the whispers and praying to god they were lying.

_he’s the one you should fear_

_he’s the one with evil in his hands_

_he’s the one who will end your life_

When the wind died and the whispering stopped, Frank was left lying on the cold floor, shaking with shadows lingering in the corners of his mind. He could see his hands in front of him and saw his fingers were grey. He felt numb in his core and wondered if his heart had stopped during the darkness. 

“Frankie, Frankie, Frankie!” he heard from above, a drowning voice that feared for Frank’s life. He forced himself to roll onto his side, bones creaking, and looked up at Gerard. Gerard had blood running from his eyes and ears and he looked like he was barely keeping himself sitting up, but the relief on his face when Frank made eye contact was enough to warm Frank’s chest. “You’re okay,” Gerard breathed. “You’re okay.”

Frank stared up at him a few seconds longer, feeling sluggish and heavy with lead in his limbs. He forced himself to sit up and looked around the room. Josh was on the floor, lying against the wall, and Tyler was trying to wake him up. Frank immediately looked away, not wanting to see that they had failed again. He looked to his right and saw Ryan was also sitting up and awake, appearing confused. The knock to his head had been hard enough to send him unconscious— Frank vaguely reminded himself they needed to keep an eye on Ryan for a concussion. Same with Gerard. 

“I’m okay,” he said, his tongue feeling fuzzy in his mouth.

“Oh god, Josh.”

Frank looked to the friends and felt a low thrum of shock when he saw Josh was waking up, his eyes darting around the showers with absolute fear written on his face. Frank wondered if he remembered being possessed. He wondered if the poor kid would die like all the other people who had been possessed had. 

“Josh?” Ryan called out, getting to his feet, swaying dangerously but refusing to let himself fall. Frank looked to the walls and saw they were still cracked. He looked up and saw the ceiling was sagging. “Oh my god, he’s okay,” Ryan breathed, moving to Frank’s side and pulling him up. Frank groaned in pain as his head swam dangerously, losing his sight for a few dark seconds. He felt sick from the darkness. He didn’t want to go back there. “I’m sorry Frank, but we have to go,” Ryan said. “We need to get back to the van.”

“I wish I could drink,” Frank slurred.

Ryan slung Frank’s arm over his shoulder and Gerard stood with great effort, pulling on the front of Ryan’s shirt to lift himself. “You good, Gee?” Ryan asked him gently, looking concerned. Gerard met his gaze, then quickly looked away like he was ashamed. Gerard nodded and looked to Tyler and Josh.

“What do we do about them?”

Ryan shook his head. “You two need to get out of here,” he told the two. “This room isn’t safe.”

“What just happened?” Tyler asked with a tremble to his voice. 

“You need to get out of here,” Ryan reiterated. “Just go. I’ll explain it later if I can. But right now, you need to get out of here. Gee didn’t fucking save your asses just for this ceiling to make it all worth nothing.”

Tyler nodded and pulled Josh to his feet while Frank blinked slowly in awe at the weakened Gerard. It dawned on him that Gerard hadn’t even had to say the dumb prayer. Gerard told the demon to leave, and… she just kinda listened to him and did as she was told. Why had Frank been referring to it as a she that whole time? Why was he personifying these things? Humanizing them? It was probably why Gerard kept telling them not to find out their names. Because it really did give them power over you. The inability to disconnect. The inability to see it as something only terrifying. It was Murmur. She had a lovely voice. She had tried to kill them.

He was suddenly outside in the cold. Water splashed against his face, rain from above. Frank groaned and tried to escape the cold. His insides were still frigid from the darkness. He couldn’t handle much more cold. 

A van was in front of him and the door slid open. 

“Oh my god, what happened to him?” Pete asked, sounding just as muddled. Frank hoped his muddy hearing wouldn’t be permanent. “What happened to you? What happened to Gerard?” Pete opened his arms and pulled Frank into the van. Frank slumped into the warmth of Pete’s chest and wondered if Patrick felt the same kind of peace when being held by Pete that Frank was feeling now. He wanted to fall asleep. 

“Let’s get you horizontal,” Pete murmured in his ear, lying Frank down on the seats and folding his jacket up, placing it under Frank’s head. “Jesus, Frankie, you look…” Pete looked up, past Frank. “Gerard, too. And Ryan. All of you look like you got into some horrible fight. Please tell me that’s not what this is? Please tell me you guys didn’t get into a fight?”

“We got into a fight,” Ryan said from the back seat, where he was cleaning the blood from Gerard’s face. Frank could see them in the rearview mirror. The way Ryan was dabbing at Gerard’s face was so gentle and loving that Frank would almost think there was something between them. Suddenly, he had a flash of a memory that might not even exist. Gerard and Ryan, kissing each other, discovering themselves and being intimate. It would explain why Ryan was treating Gerard so delicately despite the anger that Ryan obviously harbored for Gerard.

Frank felt something ugly start to twist his gut as he watched the way Ryan touched Gerard. He tried to sit up, having half a mind to tell Ryan to back off, that if he hated Gerard so much then he didn’t have any business to be touching him like that, like he was in love, like he’d known Gerard in the dark better than any body. 

“No, Frankie, stay down,” Pete said, putting his hand on Frank’s shoulders and lowering him back down. “Whatever it is, it can wait.” Pete must’ve seen the emotion of Frank’s face. “You need to stay down. I’m worried about your head.”

“Worry about Ryan and Gee’s heads,” Frank said, still unable to talk like he used to.

“Frank, have you seen yourself?” Pete asked shakily. “You have a burst blood vessel in your eye. Your pupils are two different sizes. One eye won’t stay open like the other. Frankie, shit, your lips are blue. You need to stay down.”

“Wanna sleep,” Frank mumbled.

“You can’t sleep!”

Frank jumped as Ryan climbed over the back of the middle seat to drove to the cramped floor beside Pete, looking over Frank. “Fuck, fuck, Petey, we can’t let him fall asleep, you get that, right? He could never wake up. He could be like Mikey.”

“Frank, please,” Gerard choked out from the back, probably coming to awareness at the mention of his brother’s name. “Don’t go…”

“I want to sleep,” Frank repeated, but he tried to sit up again. The blood felt like it was all lodging to one side of his head depending on gravity, like it was trickling around his skull whenever he moved. He stared at Ryan for a long moment, trying to think of how to say this. “If you fuck Gerard, I’m gonna fight you,” he settled on, getting eloquent. Ryan’s face scrunched up in confusion and Pete looked like he wanted to laugh. Frank tilted his head back to look up at the ceiling. “I’m awake,” he said. “I’m awake.”

“Pete,” Ryan said. “Drive us home. I’ll clean up any blood we leave later.”

“Fuck,” Pete choked out, climbing into the driver’s seat. “Fucking crazy.” He started the van and pulled out of the parking lot a little too fast. “This is fucking crazy.”

Frank shut his eyes and fell asleep.

. . .

Frank woke up in the fucking bathtub, an ice cold spray hitting him in the face and forcing him into awareness. He whimpered and shook, hating the cold more than anything. “Please stop,” he begged. “I don’t want to be cold anymore.”

“Then don’t fucking fall asleep when you have a concussion,” Patrick said from beside him, sound gruff and tired. “God, you fucking idiots, getting into fights with other students. What the hell was so important about going to that school, anyways? Some fucking assignment? Then you fight students from the other school. Ryan told me all fucking about it. I’m so fucking disappointed in all of you.”

Frank was distantly aware of how shitty of a lie that was. He struggled to get out of the tub, sitting up and climbing over the ceramic edge. He looked up and saw Gerard coming in through the doorway, looking tired with bruises under his eyes that haven’t been there a few hours ago. He was carrying a towel and looked horribly relieved when he saw Frank was awake. 

“You scared us so badly,” Gerard told him, putting the towel over Frank’s shoulders. “I was afraid you weren’t going to wake up. I was afraid I was gonna have to put you in a bed next to my brother.” Gerard visibly shuddered and crouched down on the ground in front of where Frank had collapsed after successfully pulling himself from the tub. Gerard’s face was only a few inches from Frank’s face, his breath hot on Frank’s frozen cheeks. Gerard bit his lip. “.. Patrick, can you give us a minute?”

Patrick let out a disgruntled sound and left.

“Frank,” Gerard said, looking over Frank’s face like he was checking for injuries. “I… am so scared. I have never been this scared in my life. I’d always known that I was going to have to face these things, and I’d always thought I could, but I suddenly realized, while we were in there, against Josh? I-I realized I can’t do it alone. And that scares me.”

“Why?” Frank asked, a little confused. He’d kinda always thought that Gerard had intended on not doing all of this alone. 

“Because, I-I’m starting to care about you,” Gerard told him, voice trembling. When Frank continued to look confused, Gerard sighed. “You know… Like I shouldn’t.”

“Shouldn’t what?” Frank asked, beginning to grow impatient.

Gerard bit his lip again, worrying the soft skin between his lips. Frank found himself staring, watching the way Gerard pulling his teeth away to leave his lower lip swollen and shiny, slick with spit. It shouldn’t be enticing to Frank. He was delirious and suffering from a concussion. 

“I like you, Frankie,” Gerard almost whispered. Frank was reading the words from his lips. “I like you a lot more than I ever thought I would like another boy. Especially after everything I’ve been through. I’ve never…”

Gerard’s breath caught and Frank tore his eyes from Gerard’s lips to look into his eyes. They were a beautiful shade of a color Frank couldn't actually name, a weird mixture of green and brown that looked gold at the edges. Gerard shuddered again. “You have to believe me, Frank,” Gerard said in a low voice. “I’ve never felt anything like this before. And this is very bad timing.”

“I literally have no idea what you’re talking about,” Frank deadpanned.

Gerard fisted his hand in Frank’s hair and held on tight. Frank tensed, ready to pull away and run, his instincts from the fight still running through his head. But there was something intoxicating about the feeling of Gerard having complete control over him like this. He stared into Gerard’s probably-hazel eyes and wet his own lips. Gerard’s eyes tracked the motion like a cat and suddenly Gerard was much closer than before.

The warmth of Gee’s lips against his own chased away the cold that had been bone deep in Frank’s chest. His fingertips tingled and Frank gasped, body reacting almost instantaneously and pressing harder into the kiss. He felt like the blood from his lips that Gerard was touching with his own was swimming through the rest of his body and clearing away the darkness Murmur had left behind. 

Gerard pulled away all too soon and the cold pulled at Frank’s skin again, but not nearly as badly as it had been before. 

“You have to understand,” Gerard said, voice quivering, his cheeks flushed with what Frank hoped was desire and not shame. “I have never been attracted to a boy before. I’ve never had feelings like this. Not for a boy. And right now? I-I don’t have time to figure things out.” Frank’s heart started to inexplicably sink. He didn’t even like Gerard like that, remember? Get it fucking together, Frank. “I just wanted you to know. So you would realize how much I care about you.”

“Jesus,” was all Frank could say. He wasn’t even sure if he wanted Gerard and him to be a thing. But now that Gerard had kissed him, he couldn’t stop thinking about the possibility. Frank shut his eyes and tried to clear his head. Frank remembered this moment for himself. That terrifying realization that he wanted someone who was the same sex as him. He remembered being so fucking scared. The need to live in denial and want to know that nothing would change. What would Gerard absolutely need hear right now? “… Thank you for telling me,” he said. 

Gerard sighed in relief again and smiled shakily. “Thank you for understanding.” He looked away and wiped his lips with the back of his hand. Oddly enough, that didn’t offend Frank. “Okay, uh… You should get off the floor. We’re all gonna sleep in Ryan’s room tonight. The bed was actually okay. We all need sleep. Ryan’s gonna attend class tomorrow in case Josh asks questions. Ryan says he can handle it.”

Frank nodded. He attempted to stand and found it was a lot easier to do after being kissed. 

“Patrick and Pete are going to go home,” Gerard added. “Pete’s pretty shaken up. Patrick said he’s gonna take care of them.” Frank nodded again and headed steadily and slowly for the door.

Gerard rested a hand on Frank’s arm before Frank could leave. “Frank?” he called out softly. “I mean it. Thank you for understanding. And thank you for not being upset with me for telling you. It means a lot to me.”

Frank just nodded for a third time and left.

. . .

He fell asleep on one end of the mattress, faced towards the window, but woke up lying between Ryan and Gerard, his head nestled on the bicep of Ryan’s outstretched arm while facing a sleeping Gerard whose shirt had ridden up, exposing his stomach and hips. Frank’s head still felt fuzzy from sleep and pain and the sun was just barely up. He felt like he was excused for reaching out and touching Gerard’s stomach. He rested his palm across the soft skin and let his hand rise and fall as Gerard breathed. Frank pulled his hand back with little strength, letting his fingertips slide down and press into Gerard’s gentle hips before his hand dropped back to the mattress.

“Dude,” Ryan breathed quietly from beside him. “You’re watching him sleep. This is creepy.”

Frank tensed and couldn’t respond. He knew he was definitely a freak for this.

Ryan sighed and curled onto his side, throwing his other arm over Frank’s chest. When Frank was about to ask why Ryan was holding him like this, Ryan said, “humor me, please. I-I haven’t lied like this with anyone for a long time and I miss it.”

Frank paused. “Gerard?”

Ryan scoffed. “As if.”

Frank paused again, thinking hard. “… Brendon?”

Ryan didn’t respond.

“The picture you had in your clubhouse,” Frank continued, treading carefully. He was suddenly afraid that photo had been burnt into nothing. He hoped Ryan had another copy somewhere. “That was him, right? That was Brendon… Who was he?”

“My boyfriend,” Ryan mumbled.

Frank hesitated. “W-what happened to him?”

Ryan didn’t say anything at first. “… Something killed him.”

Frank had been afraid of that. “Ryan… I’m so sorry. I’m sorry.” He wanted to ask if it was these monsters, these… demons. He wanted to know if it was at the hands of something truly sinister or if was just someone human. But why would Frank see it as just a thing if it were a person? Then again, someone capable of murder was hardly considered human in Frank’s eyes. He’d learned back in Jersey that it was easy to lose your humanity.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Ryan said. “I just…”

He trailed off and Frank understood. He turned and faced Ryan on his side, pressing his face into Ryan’s chest. “Pretend I am whoever you need me to be,” he murmured. “It’s okay.” He felt Ryan shudder and knew he had said the right thing. They had another hour or so to rest. Frank was happy to let Ryan have this, only if for the night. 

. . .

“It feels weird,” Ryan said as they walked to school the next morning, shivering from the cold and the downpour. “Going back to school. Like nothing has changed. Like the world hasn’t been turned on its axis. Like everything makes sense.”

“You’re being dramatic,” Frank told him, only to keep himself from thinking too hard about how right Ryan was. He was sure his mom was going pissed about the school he was going to start missing. “Things are fine, Ryan. You have to pretend they are. If people see that you’re acting weird, they’re gonna think you’re certifiable. Which you probably will be if you try to explain this shit to them.”

“My mom wanted to send me away for a few months after I told her about Mikey,” Gerard commented idly as he made sure to step in as many puddles as he could. “She called doctors and stuff and they all recommended these meds that made me really tired. I couldn’t pronounce half of the words. I convinced her to take me off of them. She said that the way I acted on the pills made her feel like she had both of her sons in comas. I really just wished I had someone to talk to.”

Ryan frowned. “You could’ve come to me.”

“You know I couldn’t have,” Gerard said. “I couldn’t put you at risk. You were already so sad and—”

“We’re not talking about this again,” Ryan interrupted. Gerard faltered in his steps and fell silent before nodding. Frank hated these secrets they kept keeping from him. He hated being teased. He hated feeling out of the loop.

“What the fuck happened?” he asked, quickening his pace to somehow manager to walk in front of the other two. “I’m fucking serious. I’m tired of these dumb, melodramatic ramblings. I want to fucking know. Fuck, guys, I deserve to know. I can’t be in the dark over why the two guys who I keep going into fucking deadly situations with hate each other. Do you have any idea how much of a risk that is to my safety, let alone your own? So stop being fucking stupid, tell me what happened, kiss, and make up.”

“Brendon died and Gerard abandoned me the day after,” Ryan said without preamble. “I called him and went to his house for weeks after, literally begging for him to be my friend again. I needed him. He didn’t care.”

“I was protecting you,” Gerard stressed, sounding exasperated and sad.

“Fuck you, Gerard,” Ryan said. “You were being selfish. If you’d wanted to protect me, you would’ve saved me from myself. Instead, Patrick had to find me at my lowest, scrubbing my skin raw with a hose in my fucking back yard. You weren’t fucking there.” Ryan sent Gerard an empty gaze, like he was tired of being angry, but couldn't bring himself to stop. “You… You betrayed me in your absence. I can’t ever trust you again.”

“Well that’s too bad,” Gerard said. “Because you have to trust me as long as you wanna get rid of these demons.”

“I’ll learn enough that I won’t need you anymore,” Ryan said. “I’ll be a better killer than you ever will. And I’ll do all of it without you. Just like I always have.”

Gerard just sighed, almost sounding annoyed. Frank found himself frustrated with Gerard. Abandoning friends was something Frank couldn’t stomach because it was a terrible fear of his own. Whatever reasoning Gerard had had for throwing Ryan out of his life hadn’t been good enough to excuse what he’d done. But he wasn’t going to choose sides. Not in front of the other side. 

“I’m gonna go sit on the steps or something,” Ryan huffed. “I’ll see you for lunch, Frank.” He left before Frank could say anything to him, disappearing into the school. Gerard made no room to follow. Frank didn’t know where Gerard usually waited for school to start.   
“You should've been his friend when he needed it,” Frank said, needing Gerard to understand that what he’d done was wrong. “Ryan lost his boyfriend. Someone who he loved, I think. The kid was fucking killed and you just… you left him in the dust.”

“Killed?” Gerard snorted. “Is that what he told you?”

“He said something killed Brendon.”

“Brendon wasn’t murdered,” Gerard said. “Brendon killed himself.” Gerard turned away from Frank and walked away. Frank didn’t feel comfortable enough to follow. 

He was too busy trying to think past the coldness seeping back into his bones.

. . .

“You told me Brendon was killed,” Frank murmured as the rain poured down around them. Ryan didn’t say anything at first, watching Pete marvel over Patrick’s fingers, going on and on about how talented he was, while Patrick just looked a little annoyed, but in that way that told Frank that Patrick secretly liked the attention and just didn’t want to give himself away.

Ryan kicked at a pebble on the ground and the wind disrupted his hair. “Brendon was killed.”

“Gerard told me something else…”

“Gerard believes his brother was possessed by a fucking demon and forced to kill his friend before slipping into a coma,” Ryan said harshly. “I think me saying Brendon was killed is not nearly as far fetched, if only just. Plus, Gerard’s a fucking jackass.”

“That he is,” Frank agreed with a sigh. He remembered the kiss and the way Gerard was so eager to put himself first and say he didn’t want more, regardless of what Frank could want.

Ryan rolled his eyes. “Calling him a jack ass when you’ve got a fucking crush on him. You know he’s straight, right? He found skin mags when we were in elementary school and showed them off to me for days. He even charged other boys a fucking quarter just to look at five pages per day. He won’t want someone like you.”

Frank scowled. “I don’t have a crush on him. But he kissed me in the bathroom.”

Ryan looked to Frank. “… No fucking way.”

“Way,” Frank affirmed, distantly enjoying the pun. The coldness was still in his chest, but at least he could make Ryan feel something other than perpetual anger with the world. “He kissed me. Said he had never felt anything like this before for a boy like me. I think I turned him gay.”

“Jesus christ,” Ryan sighed. “Fuck. Are you fucking kidding me?”

Frank frowned. “Why do you sound so pissed? It’s not like he’s your ex or something. And it’s not like I feel the same or whatever dumb shit you’re thinking of. I just think it’s funny.”

“We don’t have fucking time for you guys to start having fucking feelings,” Ryan grouched, scowling. “This is fucking ridiculous. We have to get to the bottom of these fucking demons and you two are fraternizing and kissing in bathrooms.” Ryan shook his head. “Neither of you are taking this seriously.”

“Just because I’m not obsessed with killing everything in my way doesn’t mean I’m fucking fraternizing,” Frank snapped. Ryan opened his mouth to say something equally combative back when they were interrupted.

“Uh, hey,” Josh Dun said as he approached them. He looked awful. The hoodie he was wearing was way too big for his body and his hair was a mess, dull and flat on his head. He had bags under his eyes and a huge bruise across his forehead. “I, uh…”

Ryan stood straighter and glanced to Pete and Patrick before gently taking Josh’s upper arm in his hand and leading him out of earshot of Pete and Patrick. Frank followed. “How do you feel?” Ryan asked softly, sounding like he cared a lot. Josh looked to him like he was the sun and Josh was too tired to keep himself from being burned. Frank was sure Josh felt very cold, too, after being possessed. Colder than Frank could imagine. Ryan’s touch must’ve warmed him.

Josh wet his lips, arms wrapped around his torso. “… What happened to me?”

“You were possessed,” Ryan said. “I’m sure you know that.”

“I couldn’t stop my body,” Josh choked out. “I couldn’t… I-I wasn’t even breathing on my own. And it was so cold. I kept screaming in my head, screaming for you guys to hear me, but I couldn’t make my mouth bey me. I was screaming I was alive. I was dreaming for someone to save me and no one could hear me. My body hurt and she wouldn’t stop whispering to me. She told me that you guys were going to kill me. That… That I was going to kill you.” Josh visibly trembled. “I-I don’t… I could’ve…”

“We knew what we were doing,” Ryan said, which made Frank send him an incredulous look. They’d had no fucking clue what they were doing, though Frank assumed feigned confidence would make Josh feel a little more secure and less like he was freed out of pure fucking luck.

“What the fuck was I?” Josh asked shakily. 

“It was a monster,” Frank explained. “She took over your body and made you do and say things. But that’s it. Okay? That’s all that happened to you. You’re one of the lucky ones.”

Josh looked to Frank like Frank was speaking another language. “That’s it?” he repeated incredulously. “I-I-I didn’t remember how to hold a cup this morning. I feel like I don’t fit in my skin anymore. I look down at my wrist and see my veins and have this urge to dig them out of my body with a pencil because they’re not mine. This… That wasn’t all that happened to me. I feel wrong. I feel detached. Feel like I can float out of my body at any second and be happier, because _my body isn’t mine anymore._ ”

Josh started wringing his fingers together. The joints cracked and Frank wondered if he was having trouble feeling sensation. “I feel wrong,” Josh repeated. “I feel out of place. I feel like Im homeless but in a way beyond that. I can’t trust myself anymore. I woke up across the house when I’d gone to sleep in my bed next to Tyler. I don’t feel right. I… I don’t feel right.” He looked between them. His eyes were shimmering with tears. “I don’t feel right.”

“I’m sorry, Josh,” Ryan said. “… You’ll be okay.”

Josh shook his head, his fingers twisted in a way that looked broken. “You don’t know that,” he said as he began to walk away. “You don’t know that.”


	7. Better Get You to a Hospital

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> polaroids and priests

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> betaed by the lovely _Cemetarydrivethru_
> 
> Song rec: **Lost it to Trying by Son Lux**

“I feel like shit,” Frank said as he moved wood into the house to fill holes. “I mean, we saved Josh, yeah, but what if he dies today? Don’t people usually die of heart attacks after being possessed? Jesus, we save him, and he dies within twenty four hours anyways. This is fucking fucked.”

Gerard shrugged as he started to repaint the walls. Frank hammered nails into the wood and covered up what probably used to be a window. He looked out of the slowly being-covered gap and pursed his lips, seeing the shambles of the tree house still in the trees. “… I’m gonna be right back,” he said. He climbed out of what was left of the window and jogged through the backyard, past the destroyed flowers and the burnt plants. The bench was in shambles and the water fountain lied in crumbles on the ground. 

Frank made his way to the tree house and then tried to figure out how to climb it. The rope was basically burnt to nothing, but he could use a few branches and kinda climb his way to the top and pray he’d come back down with no splinters. Half of the treehouse was on the ground, so he kicked ashes around and tried to see if the picture was in here, but saw nothing. Frank heaved a sigh and went back to his original plan, planting his feet on some rubble and hoisting himself up to the nearest branch. It creaked dangerously under his meager wait and he laughed breathlessly because he couldn’t do anything else.

It took what felt like ages, but Frank was eventually able to get himself up the tree and into the shambles of the treehouse. Everything was blackened and smelled of smoke, wood splintered and burned away. Vinyls melted down what was left of the bookshelf, creating a placid waterfall of black plastic. The beanie bag had burst from the heat and the plastic beads melted and gathered ash, gray little spots all over the floor. Frank stepped around carefully and felt more and more nervous as the floor subtly gave way under his feet. He wondered if the fall would kill him or if he’d be impaled on any wood beneath him. Fuck, what a way to go. Not killed by demons, just by shitty wood.

Frank sifted through the ash and melted plastic and the shards of glass from the lightbulbs and squinted to try and find the photo. He hissed as he nicked the pad of his thumb on a sliver of glass and brought his thumb to his mouth, sucking away the blood. It still tasted like copper and Frank was struck with a moment of disassociation. He pulled his thumb away and watched the blood slide down the skin, catching on the sleeve of the shirt on the arm in front of him and splaying out like ink on a page.

This was humanity.

This was called being alive.

The ability to get hurt and bleed and hate yourself. The fear that laced through Frank every time he stared into blood eyes of monsters he wasn’t supposed to believe in and the disgust he felt when he thought of what Gerard had done.

That was being alive.

He felt like he was observing himself through a lens, like he was a split second into the future and knew everything that was about to happen to his body. He breathed slowly and shallowly and wondered vaguely if he was going to be stuck like this forever. He hoped not. He didn’t like this feeling, like he was floating out of his skeleton and aiming listlessly for the sky. 

A full body shudder ran through him and Frank was slammed back into his existence like a body attached to a rock being dropped into the water. Frank gasped for breath and lurched forward, shaking and feeling like he was going to retch. It was a definite possibility, especially with the way his stomach suddenly turned over and his head swam dangerously. Frank whimpered before bending over and dry heaving into the dust, just stomach acid and spit dripping from his lips to the floor. His stomach protested and convulsed a second time, and tears sprang to the corners of his eyes. 

Then it was over. His stomach felt fine. His brain felt clear. The only thing that made him know he’d vomited was the stench and lingering taste in his mouth. He looked down at the floor, though, and saw nothing there. He felt cold again.

In his peripherals, he saw a spot of clear white in the blackness. Frank reached out with a shaking hand and pulled out the half destroyed photo of a boy with huge lips and hair to the ceiling. The bottom half of the boy was singed away and some handwriting was gone, but you could see his face and you could see his smile. Frank knew that would mean more to Ryan than anything. He climbed out of th treehouse and crossed the ruined yard quickly

“Where’s Ryan?” Frank asked once he was back inside the house. Gerard looked up at him from where he was painting along the floorboards, then furrowed his brow. 

“Are you okay, Frankie?” Gerard asked, sitting up straighter. “You don’t look so good.”

“Can you please tell me where Ryan is?” Frank pressed, clutching the photo in his hand. The more he thought about it, the more he realized Ryan probably didn’t have another picture of this guy. They didn’t have phones to take pictures with and they didn’t have computers for social media. Ryan probably didn’t have a single picture of his boyfriend.

“What is that?” Gerard asked. He reached out and took the photo before Frank could stop him and looked at the picture. But upon seeing who it was, Gerard silently handed back the photo and went back to work. Frank watched him for a moment.

“… How could you leave him?” Frank asked. 

Gerard shook his head. “I used to know. Then you started asking. I-I can defend myself to anyone but you. With you, what I say… It doesn’t make sense half the time. I’m not sorry. I have this idea that I’d done the right thing, but… I can’t explain it to you. Anyone else but you.”

“Then you know you were wrong,” Frank said.

Gerard just didn’t respond.

“Where’s Ryan?” Frank asked again.

“He’s in the bathroom, trying to pick up the mirror.”

Frank nodded and left Gerard to what he was doing, going to the bathroom and knocking on the door. He half expected to hear crying, but was relieved when Ryan opened the door with dry eyes and a neutral expression. “Is it time for dinner or to go home?” Ryan asked. “I’m almost done here. We can head back whenever, but I’d like to get this done first.”

“I went to the treehouse,” Frank said.

Ryan frowned. “Why the hell would you do that? That thing’s dangerous. Fuck, you could’ve gotten hurt, you idiot.”

Frank was a little touched by Ryan’s concern. He took in a shaky breath and tried to chase away the coldness in his body as he held out the half charred photo of Brendon. It took Ryan a second to understand what he was seeing, but once he did understand, everything was washed clean from Ryan’s eyes. Ryan stared at the photo for a long time before he reached out and oh so delicately took the photo from Frank’s outstretched palm. He ran his fingertips gently over Brendon’s face on the photo, and then his eyes weren’t so dry anymore.

“Figured you didn’t have another one,” Frank said. “It’s amazing the fire and rain didn’t get to all of it.”

“He smiled like a dork half the time just because he wanted to make me laugh,” Ryan choked out. His voice was wavering with emotion and Frank lifted his hand to rest his palm on Ryan’s shoulder. Where his palm rested on Ryan’s skin, warmth ran through his veins and began to spread through his body again. He was slowly beginning to realize that contact with others brought the warmth back into his body. Humans brought back his humanity. “Fuck, Frankie,” Ryan said. “I-I’m in love with a dead boy. What the fuck am I supposed to do?”

Frank shook his head. He didn’t have an answer.

“Fuck,” Ryan said again. “Fuck.” His hands started to shake, but he didn’t tighten his grip around the photo. He treated it like it was a beautiful prize. Frank watched the heartbreak swim in Ryan’s eyes before he leaned in to wrap Ryan up in a hug. Not only was he sure this was helping Ryan somehow, but the touch of their chests warmed the rest of Frank’s body and he breathed a sigh of relief. Ryan shuddered and started to cry, and Frank was a little surprised that Ryan was allowing himself to cry in the daylight. But he appreciated the show of trust and didn’t pull away from the hug so Ryan wouldn’t feel exposed in his moment of emotional nakedness. 

“I’m sorry this happened to you,” Frank said. Because regardless of the reality of Brendon’s death— murder or suicide— Ryan had lost someone he loved so fucking much and Frank couldn’t imagine that kind of pain. He wished he could contact his friends back in Jersey but knew his mom had moved him here to cut off his communication with James and Bob. It didn’t matter. They would just think Frank had lost his mind, anyways. Frank had never been able to keep secrets from them. He was sure Ryan and Brendon had been the same. “I’m sorry, Ryan,” he said again, because he needed the poor kid to know he felt bad for him. He felt beyond bad for Ryan. He felt sick again, but the warmth in his body was helping fight the stomachaches. 

“Fuck,” Ryan mumbled before abruptly pulling back and wiping his eyes with the top of his wrist. He looked at the picture again and smiled shakily before slipping the photo delicately in his back pocket. “I’m gonna laminate that at the school later. I’ve been too scared to look for it. Mostly scared to find out that it was all gone. Thank you.”

Frank nodded. “I’m gonna get back to work with the window. I’ll shout when it’s time for dinner. Pete’s gonna bring us fried chicken. I think he’s a little too scared to hang around the house, but he didn’t ask too many questions about last night over the phone.”

“He probably realized I was right when I said what we’re doing is too dangerous to involve him,” Ryan sighed. “Fuck. Sucks. I was really kinda hoping we’d be able to have him with us. At least as a getaway vehicle. But I mean… That’s messed up to hope for. Because one of the best ways to thwart a hero is to take out his transportation if he can’t fly.”

“You think we’re heroes?” Frank asked.

“Hardly,” Ryan snorted. “Delusional kids with too much information, maybe. I was just looking for an analogy that works.”  Frank pat his shoulder again. “I’ll see you in a bit, dude. I hope the photo helps.”

“More than you can imagine,” Ryan replied solemnly. 

. . .

“I like Ryan,” Frank’s mom commented later that night. “I hope you do too. Just not too much.”

Frank paused in putting his laundry into the washer. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I’m just saying,” she continued. “A lot of the other moms are pretty stagnant with their beliefs. They talk about Ryan a lot as one of the sinning boys. I don’t really agree with them, but if they find out about you and if they find out about you and Ryan… Well, I just don’t think we can move again. It’ll be hard.”

“Ryan and I aren’t anything,” Frank snapped, angry with her for once again being so willing to put her comfortable life in front of his existence as a her bisexual son. “And we won’t be. He’s in love with someone else. And if he tells me that you’re trying to talk to him about this stuff, I’m probably not gonna come home again.” It was a threat that he could make well on. He could fix up Ryan’s house and just stay with him. Become the runaway she’d always wanted him to be. “Though I’m sure that’s exactly what you want, isn’t it?”

She sighed heavily. “… I’m going to bed, Frank. Love you.”

“Good riddance,” Frank snapped.

. . .

_“You have to come with me,” Gerard said, offering his hand from the helicopter rope ladder, his greasy hair blowing into Frank’s face and mouth and making Frank sputter. “They’re coming for you. And for the payload. We have to leave. I can save you.”_

_Frank looked back and saw the rats were most definitely chasing him as he jumped from rooftop to rooftop with the briefcase in hand._

_“What the fuck,” Ryan said next to him. “He doesn’t even go here.”_

_“Come with me,” Gerard repeated, keeping his hand extend. “We must run, princess.”_

_Frank was a princess, of course he knew that. How could he not be with the golden tiara and the pink dress?_

_“We have to hurry,” Gerard said. “The sun is leaving.”_

_The rats were suddenly gone. The rooftops were gone. The helicopter and the rope ladder and Gerard and Ryan and the dress and tiara and the briefcase— all gone._

_Frank was suspended in darkness. His stomach was dropping like he was in the middle of an endlessly falling roller coaster, but his hair was still and his limbs were weightless. Frank’s eyes searched the darkness desperately for something that could ground him, something that could make him feel like he was about to vomit, about to have his heart stop, about to lose his fucking mind. He opened his mouth to call out for help, but his mouth wouldn’t open. He tried to move his limbs, but nothing worked. He realized he was even in his body, but observing it from a distance._

_Oh god, was this what Josh had felt?_

_**he will bring the end of the world** _

. . .

Frank woke up in the middle of his backyard, facing in the general direction of Gerard’s that was beyond the trees that surrounded Frank’s property. The cold wind around him was actually warm compared to how cold he was on the inside. He shuddered and wrapped his arms around his torso, but it didn’t help. He didn’t know how he’d gotten there. He didn’t know how he had managed to unlock the back door and wander out here, past the furniture in the house he barely knew, without waking up.

A loud sound came from behind him and Frank realized it was some kind of bird as he turned around. The black object flew into the sky, lit up only by the huge moon. Then another bird follower, and another, and then three more. They all flew into the sky and then flew towards the town. 

Frank stumbled and dropped to the grass, just staring at where the birds had been. A foreboding sense filled his body alongside the cold and he shuddered.

“Frank?”

Frank looked to his left so quickly that his neck pinched painfully. He winced and rubbed the back of his neck as he looked up at Ryan, who was looking down, concerned. “How’d you get out here?” Ryan asked almost curiously. “What’s wrong? You look really fucked up, dude.”

“I think I slept walked…” Frank wasn’t sure which of those words he needed to put into the past tense. “I had a weird dream.”

“What happened in it?” Ryan asked, sitting down beside him. Franke became aware of how wet the grass was and wondered if Ryan was going to be upset that his pajamas were about to be soaked. 

Frank paused, choosing his words wisely. “… I was a princess, Gee was in a helicopter, and you were saying he doesn’t even go somewhere.”

Ryan snorted a laugh of disbelief. “That’s fucking weird, dude.”

“Yeah,” Frank agreed, feeling bad for omitting the truth.

“I had a weird dream too,” Ryan said. “I dreamed I was, like, stuck in this darkness. I felt like I was in an airplane that was free falling. There was this voice telling me someone’s gonna bring the end of the world.” Frank looked to Ryan in shock. Ryan laughed tightly, like he wanted to pretend the dream was nothing, but knew that it wasn’t. “Fucking weird, huh?”

“I had the same dream,” Frank murmured. 

“I thought you dreamed about Gerard and helicopters.”

“And then Gerard told me the sun was leaving and I was in that darkness,” Frank said. “I was cold. I couldn’t move. Couldn’t even scream. Isn’t that what you felt?”

Frank heard Ryan’s breath catch. “Frank? Are we sick?”

“Who gave us this dream?” Frank asked. “This isn’t the first time I’ve heard a voice in the darkness.”

“Every time we exorcise something, I hear a voice,” Ryan said, nodding slowly. “It warns me of someone. A boy. Saying that whoever he is will bring about the end of the world.” Ryan swallowed visibly. “… Do you think Gee would know anything about this?”

“Do you care enough to ask?” Frank pressed. “You said you didn’t want to rely on him.”

“Haven’t you ever said things you regret when you’re hurt and angry?”

Frank grimaced and nodded, having to admit Ryan had a point. “Will you ever apologize?”

“Will he ever realize how badly he fucked me when he left?” Ryan shook his head. “I may be being childish, but I still think it’s justified. You wouldn’t expect anyone to go back to a friend that abandoned them after the death of a loved one. Why am I different?”

Frank sighed. “You’re not.”

“I shouldn’t be,” Ryan said. “I did my best. I made it through that loss and I came out alive. I should be allowed to do what I need to do to keep functioning. All these other people are allowed to do that. All of these people are allowed to just cut people out of their lives and treat others like shit all in the name of trauma. I’ve got my own trauma. I’m coping.”

Frank nodded. “… Still wanna ask Gee about the dreams?”

“Absolutely,” Ryan affirmed. 

. . .

Gerard looked scared when Ryan and Frank cornered him the next morning. “… You’ve been having the dreams too?”

“Fuck,” Ryan bit out while Frank resisted the urge to shove his hands into his eyes. “Really, Gee? We’ve all been having these dreams. Next thing we’re gonna know, Josh is gonna be dreaming, and then Frank’s mom, and then fucking Mikey.”

“How is Mikey?” Frank asked suddenly.

Gerard looked away with guilt written all over his face. “Haven’t seen since Mr. Ross died…”

Ryan ran his hands through his hair. “… I’ll visit him with you later today,” Ryan said, sounding decisive and leaving no room for Gerard to argue. “Right now, we need to deal with the problems at hand. These dreams are crossing into each other’s heads, princesses aside.” Frank glared at him. Ryan didn’t give a shit. “This dream is obviously important,” Ryan said. “We wouldn’t be having the same fucking dream if it wasn’t. Which is why I think we should see a priest.”

“Why would we see a priest?” Frank asked.

“A priest could know things about demons and shit that we wouldn’t think to look up,” Ryan explained with a shrug. “And we could also get advice on exorcisms and stuff. We need someone who can exorcise demons properly, right?”

Frank cast a glance to Gerard. “I mean… do we need one?”

Ryan frowned. “What are you talking about?”

“Gee told the demon to leave without saying that dumb prayer,” Frank recapped. “He was able to just make it happen on his own. Told the demon to leave Josh’s body and suddenly everything was okay. She completely left. She even looked afraid of Gerard. I think we don’t need the exorcisms. I think we just need Gerard. Whatever that means.”

Ryan turned to Gerard with a deeper frown. Gerard looked scared and seemed like he was waiting to be called a freak. Ryan looked him over for a long moment. “… Whatever happened, it made Gerard’s ears and nose bleed,” Ryan said. “It made him sick and tired. So whatever he can do, it takes a lot out of him. I don’t think it’s worth the risk it has to his health.”

Frank scrunched his nose up and Gerard looked really surprised. 

“He could really get hurt,” Ryan reasoned with Frank. “Contrary to your fucking belief, Frank, I’m only dead set on getting myself killed with recklessness. You and Gee? That’s a no go. I get that that’s pretty reminiscent of what Gee did, but I don’t give a shit.”

“I just can’t believe you care about him getting hurt over killing these things,” Frank snorted.

Ryan grimaced and didn’t say anything. He cast a glance to Gerard and that was it. “I just think we should look for more viable options that not only don’t send Gerard into some sort of aneurysm, but are also accessible to you and me.” That sounded a little like bullshit with the way Ryan was steadily refusing to look at Gerard, who was looking earnestly to him with a soft expression. “I want to be able to get rid of a demon without having Gerard there. What if he sleeps in late? Or just kinda does something away from us? We need to be able to take care of ourselves on our own, Frank. We can’t always rely on others.”

“You care about Gerard,” Frank almost accused.

Ryan scowled. “I’m talking to the priest today. Father North. You two can come with whether you’d like to or not.”

“Will we see my brother after?” Gerard asked, keeping his voice small, probably because he didn’t want Ryan to get upset with him for talking too loud or something. Which was silly. Ryan wasn’t a fucking dictator. 

“We’ll see Mikey after,” Ryan said. “I promise. I-I’ve missed the kid.”

Gerard nodded. “Let’s go see Father North.”

. . .

“So how can I help you boys?” Father North asked amicably from where he sat behind his desk in the back of the church. Ray was standing beside him, his hair a halo around his head. He was watching Gerard with a suspicious expression. “You seemed pretty excited when you first came in. Maybe you’re interested in the bible study?” Father North looked to Frank. “You’re Frank Iero, yes? I know your mother. What a lovely woman.”

Frank almost growled and Ryan kicked his leg subtly. “We wanted to talk to you about monsters,” Ryan said, hands folded over his lap like he was trying to be a professional. Frank wanted to laugh at him. 

“Monsters? Boys, monsters aren’t real.”

“We know they are,” Gerard said. “We’ve seen them.”

Ray narrowed his eyes at Gerard, though not in an angry way. Maybe just like he was trying to figure Gerard out. 

“We’ve met the monsters, sir,” Gerard continued. “They took my brother and Josh. They took that boy at the football game. And they’re going to take a lot more people.”

Father North was silent for a moment. “… What are you talking about, son?” he asked gently.

“We’re talking about the demons,” Ryan said. “The things from fairytales and horror stories. They’e taking over people and making them do things they don’t want to do. They’re evil and we’re working to stop them.”

“You can’t be serious,” Ray scoffed. “Are you hearing this, Father?” Ray laughed and shook his head. “You cannot be serious.”

Father North looked very serious. “What evidence do you boys have of this?”

“Well, we don’t have anything physical,” Gerard said with a wince. “But… We’ve felt it. And we’ve been having this dream. The same dream for all three of us. And we’ve exorcised two of them. We, we know what we’re doing, to an extent. And we know what that kind of evil feels like.”

“And what does it feel like?” Father North asked calmly. His hans were folded together atop the desk kinda like Ryan’s hands were. 

“It’s cold,” Frank said. He felt a sudden urge to talk about that. What he felt when the demon left the vessel and joined them in the world. “It’s cold and dark. It’s like falling without ever stepping off a ledge. It’s like being sick to your stomach, but no way to get the poison out of you because gravity doesn’t exist. And it’s freezing cold and even when the light comes back, the coldness doesn’t leave. It, it clings to you.” He swallowed hard and glanced to Gerard and Ryan, who were watching him intently, as Frank brought his finger up to hist chest. “It lingers just outside your heart. And it never gets warm. Not until you touch someone else and they chase away the cold.”

“This is insane,” Ray said.

“This… is the most accurate description I’ve heard in years,” Father North sighed. “I’m sorry, boys, but I must advise you to leave these things alone. They are set on destroying everything in their paths. You boys need to stay away from this before you get hurt.”

“I’m already hurt,” Ryan said.

“Me too,” Gerard added.

“I’m on my way,” Frank snorted, sounding cynical.

“Boys, I’m serious,” Father North insisted while Ray just looked completely bewildered. “These demons are obsessed with this town. I’ve done what I can. There’s no stopping them. I’m sorry, boys.”

“You can’t be serious,” Ray said. “You believe this?”

“These boys have seen things no humans ever should,” Father North said, voice tinged with pity. “I can see it in their eyes.”

“You’re crazy,” Ray said.

“I’ve done quite a few exorcisms in my time,” Father North told Ray patiently. “I know how it feels to be in the presence of true evil and walk away, unsure if you’re alive or not. That kind of cold never leaves your bones. It’s why I’ve been teaching you all these things you’ve found so strange. There are things happening in this town that no one wants to acknowledge. And unfortunately, these boys have fallen into the thick of it before I have been able to find out the truth behind it all.”

“You’ve been finding information?” Gerard asked with a gasp, sitting up straighter. “I’ve found things too! How do you talk to them?”

“I, I don’t,” Father North almost stammered with a frown. “You’ve been talking to them?”

“I, uh, I’ve been talking to the remnants of people they’ve killed,” Gerard clarified. “With a ouija board. I’ve been able to find out some things before they’ve happened. I’ve learned a lot of patterns and stuff. Like the birds and the bugs. I can speak their language, most of the time, too. I think I know a lot. Now, that is.”

“What made you want to do this?” Father North asked. “You’re so young. You shouldn’t be involved in such evil.”

“I can’t listen to this any longer,” Ray said, leaving the office room. Frank watched him go, as did Ryan and Gerard. Gerard looked a little sad that he was leaving, and opened his mouth like he wanted to ask Ray to stay. But Gerard shut his mouth soon after and looked back to Father North.

“I can’t convince you boys to leave this alone, can I?” Father North asked sadly. “I can’t make you turn away? There’s still time, boys. They’re still a chance for you to wash your hands of this and stay safe. Grow up. Go to college. Raise a family.”

“I’m gay,” Ryan deadpanned.

“Homosexuals can have families just as much as anyone else,” Father North said without missing a beat. Frank’s boy shot up uncontrollably. Maybe this church wasn’t nearly as bad as he’d assumed. “You boys can still lead safe and naturally long lives. But that isn’t an option if you continue to dabble with the occult and meddle in the existence of things beyond our ability to understand. You boys will be killed. Please make no mistake of that.”

“I intend to die like that,” Ryan said.

“I don’t plan on dying at all,” Gerard mumbled. “Not until Mikey wakes up.”

Father North sighed. Then he moved some papers around on his desk. “… What were your questions?”

“How do we become capable of saying exorcisms?” Ryan asked, appearing pleased that they were getting back to business. “We’ve been getting by with the prayer, but only barely. It would be a lot better if we could actually use the exorcisms given to the church, but we think you have to be ordained, right? Or at least something priestly. Frank was baptized, but the prayer didn’t work with him.”

“When was Frank’s last confessional?” Father North asked. “That may have a deciding factor in the strength of your exorcisms, but I’m afraid that I have to tell you that there is no way for you to be able to have a legitimate exorcism without a priest of some denomination with you. Catholicism would be the best. Priests are trained in the deep seeded ways of the past. It can be a bit of a hindrance when it comes to social issues of the modern day, but the old teachings are very helpful when it comes to old problems, such as these. You’ll need a legitimate priest to help you exorcise a demon safely.”

“Where can we find one?” Gerard asked.

Father North tapped at his desk. “… I can send Ray with you. The man could do with some eye opening experiences. He definitely needs to understand that there’s a lot more in the world to be afraid of. But please understand, if the situation even becomes remotely dangerous for you or for my apprentice, he will be pulling you from the scene.”

“Just like that?” Gerard asked with a frown.

Father North shrugged. “Evil is evil. You will fight however you can. I just want to make sure one of god’s soldiers is on your side.”

Gerard suddenly looked very, very skeptical. He traded a glance with Frank, and Frank mostly wanted to pull him aside and ask what the fuck was wrong. This was good. This was supposed to be good. They were getting someone who could recite exorcisms and have them actually work and then they wouldn’t have to strain Gerard’s brain like they had before. Frank had no idea what Gerard could think was bad about this. They’d been wanting this for days, hadn’t they? Maybe not exactly, but something close. Frank didn’t like watching Gerard’s brain bleed after sending a demon away.

“Thank you so much,” Ryan said. “And thanks for not calling us crazy.”

“Absolutely,” Father North sighed. “Just wish I could convince you boys to leave this alone. This is all very dangerous. You could get very, very hurt. And then what would your parents say?”

Ryan nodded and Frank shrugged. Gerard just looked so suspicious. 

“I must to go, boys,” Father North said, standing and adjusting his collar. “I have my flock to tend to.” He waved goodbye to them and left his office, like he didn’t care what they could do with all of the stuff in th desk and the like. Frank was half tempted to step a rosary, just to be safe. He reached up and held his prayer necklace for the first time in days. It felt nice. Frank sighed softly and looked to Gerard again. 

“Any reason why you seem upset?” he asked. 

“I’ll tell you later,” Gerard mumbled. “I want to see my brother.”

Ryan nodded as he stood as Frank and Gerard followed his lead. But as they were about to leave, Ray threw the office door open and stopped them in their tracks.

“Whatever you guys think you’re doing,” he began carefully. “I do not appreciate being dragged into it. I’m trying to move on, Gerard. I’m doing my very fucking best. You need to respect that.”

“This doesn’t have to do with Mikey,” Gerard lied.

“Everything with you has to do with Mikey,” Ray snapped, and that was definitely the truth. “You haven’t done a god damn thing with your life that hasn’t had to do with Mikey, you haven’t even taken a shit on your own without thinking about Mikey. We need to move on, Gerard, don’t you see?” Ray reached out and held to Gerard’s shoulders, staring intently into his eyes. “We need to move on. You need to move on. Just… tell your mom to pull the plug.”

Gerard slapped his hands away, eyes wide with horror. “I can’t believe you just said that,” he choked out. “After everything that Mikey was to you…”

“Mikey was my best friend,” Ray said. “But that doesn’t mean I’m doing him any favors by keeping him around as a vegetable.”

“You take that back!” Gerard suddenly shouted, taking a step into Ray’s space like he wanted to fight him. It was a comical scene— small, chubby Gerard trying to stand to the height of the huge Ray Toro, with the thighs of a bull and the hands of a giant. Frank winced and stepped forward, but Ryan beat him to it, standing between Gerard and Ray.

“What you said was uncalled for,” Frank said while Ryan kinda stood there, making sure Ray didn’t do anything to Gerard. It was a weird unbalance, considering that Gerard had been the one trying to start a fight. “You can’t tell people to pull life support plugs, okay? Like, that… That’s fucked up.”

“It’s the truth,” Ray said.

“Fuck whatever you think is the truth,” Ryan said. “Mikey is still alive in there.”

“He’s gone,” Ray repeated. “It’s been three years. He’s gone.”

“Shut up!” Gerard shouted. “Shut up before I make you shut up!”

Frank’s eyes went wide as it dawned on him that Gerard might actually have the ability to make Ray stop talking. He could exorcise demons with his words. Gerard could probably do the same with people, to some creative extent. Fuck, could Gee kill people with his mind?

“We’re going to see his brother,” Ryan told Ray firmly. “And you’re going to rethink the shit you’re spouting. Mikey’s a human being, not a vegetable.” He pulled Gerard out of the office.

“They’re letting Mikey suffer,” Ray told Frank as Frank tried to follow. Frank didn’t respond. He only stared at Ray for a little too long before shuffling quickly out of the office, head ducked. All of a sudden, he felt guilty for the boy lying in that hospital bed in the city, and he didn’t know why.

. . .

“And this is Mikey’s room,” Gerard told Ryan as he opened the door to show Ryan the hospital room. “He’s got a good view and stuff. And the nurses are really nice in this wing, cause they usually don’t deal with terminal patients. They mostly handle the comatose and stuff. They’re all pretty great.”

Ryan was kinda staring at Mikey in the bed. He walked past Gerard and went to stand by the bed. He then reached out and gently took Mikey’s wrist in his hand— the one without the IV. Ryan let out a shaky sigh. “I feel like I should’ve visited sooner,” he said. “But it was hard to think about you like this.” Frank startled when he realized Ryan was talking directly to Mikey.

“Gotta say, you’re aren’t any much quieter than you already were,” Ryan chuckled. “Probably smile the same amount too. And I’ll bet you’re still rolling your eyes at your big brother’s stupid jokes, right? But he reads to you. And he takes care of you. I’m sorry I’ve been too scared to visit. I should’ve been reading with you.”

“He’s just happy you’re here,” Gerard said, watching Ryan with a soft expression. When Ryan looked up, seeming ready to argue, Gerard interrupted. “I didn’t exactly give you a way to reach him. I wasn’t talking to you so it wasn’t like you could know where he was. You didn’t neglect him. You would’ve been here if you could’ve.”

Ryan sighed and squeezed Mikey’s hand. “… I miss this kid,” he said. “He told the dumbest jokes and knew literally everything about the weirdest things. He read that weird book fucking constantly. And the one before it.”

“ _John Dies at the End_ ,” Gerard supplied helpfully. “And _This Book is Full of Spiders_.” Gerard smiled happily. “They’re very, very weird books, I agree. But he enjoys them so very much. And I loved how he would smile and talk about the book all the time.”

“I read them once,” Ryan said. “Weirdest fucking thing. Especially when it was from his dog’s perspective. What did the dog call him? Meatsmell?” Ryan laughed a little and shook his head. “I have no idea where he found that book.”

“Ray gave it to him,” Gerard said.

Ryan’s face fell a little.

“Look, guys, I get that we’ve missed Mikey,” Frank interrupted gently. “But we’ve got a couple things we should talk about. The dream, maybe? Or Gerard’s ability? Or how about how Gerard doesn’t even like the priest?”

“I’m right here,” Gerard grumbled.

“You don’t like the priest?” Ryan asked with a frown. “Why the fuck not? He’s helping us, Gee. He’s gonna make it so you don’t get hurt every time we have to take on one of these fucking freaks. You get that, right? You could be suffering permanent fucking brain damage right now. This whole thing could kill you. We want to take the strain off of your brain.”

“I think he’s got the motives,” Gerard said. “He believed us too easily. He was too quick to gives help. All sane people would just push us out of the office. But he believed us instantaneously. And that’s not right, Ryan. That isn’t right at all.”

“You think he wants to use us?” Frank asked.

“I think he wants something from us that he probably doesn’t want us to know about,” Gerard said. “I think that he has other ideas. I think he knows more about this than we do and that he’s been waiting for dumb kids like us to fall into his lap so he can have the opportunities he wants to do whatever he needs.”

Frank swallowed hard. “… Really?”

“Didn’t you guys notice how quickly he gave us Ray?” Gerard asked. “Don’t you think that’s weird? I don’t know about you, but I was sure that we were going to have to do some serious convincing and be ready to be sent to a doctor, or maybe some sort of bible study. Do you realize how badly this could have gone? And yet it didn’t.”

“And you’re complaining?” Frank asked.

“Cautious,” Gerard corrected. “I, I’m cautious.” He paused and looked to his brother. “… You both have to realize how used I am to being called crazy. How I’m accustom to being the crazy kid down the street who doesn’t know anything but demons and monsters. People cross to the other side of the street to avoid me. My mother is ashamed of me. I have nothing but my brother in this bed and… A-and you two.” He looked up shyly. “If that’s okay to say.”

Frank nodded and Ryan didn’t say anything, which wasn’t denial, so that was okay. 

“So, I just… I’m so happy to finally have something, but you guys have to realize how used I am to nothing. Or close to nothing. And once you understand that, you have to understand how extremely severe it has to be for me to doubt one of the few good things to ever happen to me these last couple years.”

Ryan sighed heavily. “Fuck, Gerard… I get that you’ve got a lot more experience than me and Frank, but regardless of the priest’s intentions, we need Ray. We need someone who can say an exorcism that’ll actually work. We don’t want your brain exploding on us, okay? For all my talk of dying and shit, I don’t actually wish to die. I don’t want either of you to die. Death is fucked up and scary and so horribly permanent. So just, please. Go with this for now. Even if you suspect the priest, you don’t suspect Ray, right? You trust him, still.”

“He said such awful things,” Gerard mumbled.

“Because he’s desperate to stop hurting,” Ryan told him. “All of us are. All of us just want to move on and be happy, but we can’t. Not until we’re safe.”

“Not until Mikey’s safe,” Gerard added.

“Not until Mickey’s safe,” Ryan repeated gently.

“You guys are totally breezing past a big thing,” Frank said. “Gerard has fucking powers.”

“Maybe it came from all the occult stuff,” Gerard said. “Maybe I, like, picked up stuff while talking to demons. Maybe it’s just that. It could go away.”

“Maybe it’s cause you were born in this town,” Ryan suggested. “I wasn’t so it didn’t work for me. Neither did Frank’s attempt. It could be be something even simpler. Maybe they just listen to certain people. Fuck, Frankie, maybe Gerard’s ancestors were bad ass demon hunters and the ability was passed down through a bloodline.” Ryan laughed a little, but it was strained, like he was trying to make Frank relax and drop it. “It doesn’t have to be something scary all the time, Frank. It doesn’t always have to be the end of the world.”

“Say whatever the fuck you want about me being paranoid,” Frank replied. “But that demon was afraid of Gerard. And freaky bloodline or occult experimentation or whatever, if Gerard is something demons fear, then maybe we should too.”

Gerard’s eyes went wide. “Are you afraid of me, Frank?” he asked in a shaky voice.

“No,” Frank said. “But… I’m starting to think that maybe I should be.”

Ryan and Gerard both fell silent. Ryan let go of Mikey’s wrist, which he’d been holding to the whole time, and looked up with an unreadable expression. “Did you bring that book, Gee? Mikey always said I have a better reading voice than you.”


	8. In Horrifying Sight and Sound…

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> visions aren't really in Frank's repertoire

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> early chapter because i have jury duty tomorrow and probably can't post anything
> 
> song rec: **"Empty" by Ray LaMontagne**

_“There’s a reason to why I’m wearing black,” Gerard said as he stood in front of Frank, dressed entirely in white. “It’s because we’re waiting for your funeral.”_

_“I don’t have a funeral date yet,” Frank said._

_“Are you sure?” Gerard asked with a slow smile. “There was a fire sale. We might as well do it early while we have the casket. Wouldn’t want it to get dusty. We don’t want to polish it again either, you know. Let’s save resources, Frankie. We need to bury you now while the casket is clean.”_

_“You’re a smart man,” Frank agreed._

_“I know,” Gerard replied. “Ryan’s already in his. He’s been down there for three days.”_

_Frank climbed into the casket that was suddenly in front of him and lied down with his hands to his sides. He watched Gerard close the top of the casket, but then Gerard pulled it back open after only a second of darkness. “Almost forgot,” Gerard said before bending over and kissing Frank upside down. Frank surged upwards into the kiss, pressing into the warmth like an addict. Gerard pushed Frank back down into the casket with a hand on his chest._

_“Your heartbeat is too fast,” Gerard said. “You shouldn’t have a heartbeat at all. Let me fix that.”_

_He pulled away from Frank’s lips to slam something into Frank’s chest, piercing bone and flesh and going straight into his heart. Frank gasped and looked down as blood spewed from the wound. Gerard had stabbed him with a pair of black, rectangular glasses that Frank didn’t recognize and the wound felt warm._

_Gerard shut the lid of the casket with a slam and Frank was encroached in darkness._

_He felt cold all over. Cold down to his veins. So cold that he couldn’t even move to try and get warm. He felt suspended in air again, like he was in a sensory deprivation bath, perfect coldness all around._

_**you mustn’t bring him back** _

_**he will be the end of us all** _

. . .

Frank awoke with a gasp and turned to his right to see Ryan sleeping soundly beside him. Maybe they hadn’t shared this dream. Frank would hope not. He hoped Ryan didn’t dream of kissing Gerard. That would be disconcerting for reasons Frank didn’t want to explore. But what if Ryan had dreamed of Frank and Gerard kissing? And out of everything that had happened in the dream, why did the kiss bother him the most?

Frank groaned and rolled onto his back, being careful not to jostle Ryan and disturb his much needed sleep. He felt a little like a zombie, waking up at one AM. Frank would’ve given anything to be asleep. He really wished he could talk to Gerard. He would’ve had to listen to the insane ramblings of a boy set on reviving a corpse-like brother who believed in demons long before having any sort of proof, but Frank enjoyed listening to Gerard’s scraggly voice. He wondered if Gerard used to smoke. He hoped he still did. Frank could get back into the habit and he had a feeling Pete wouldn’t want to smoke with any of him after what had happened. 

Frank pressed the bottom of his palms into his eyelids and breathed slowly, forcing himself to calm down after the nightmare, though it was hardly that. Frank didn’t feel scared, just out of breath and shaky. There were no paranoid feelings towards the dark corners of his room and there was no anxiety about falling asleep again. He just felt off. And clammy. But he wasn’t afraid.

Frank ended up rolling over and facing Ryan again. He felt an air of sadness as he remembered how Ryan had clung to him the night before, needing to replace the feeling of Brendon in his arms. Frank couldn’t imagine what it was like to lose a lover for real. The more he thought about it, the more his heart splintered. Ryan and Gerard had been through so fucking much and Frank’s hardships were nothing compared to them. Frank had always assumed that life in a small town was simple and pretty easy, but now it seemed more like horror story. There was so much wrong with this town and none of these kids were making it out unscathed. Even Patrick seemed like he was hiding horrible things he’d seen from his psyche. Frank had seen a man slowly twist himself apart like a broken puppet and sometimes the image haunted him when he was alone. There was no way for Frank to leave this place with his sanity intact.

“You’re thinking too much…”

Frank winced apologetically. “Sorry.”

“What’re you thinking about?” Ryan asked, sounding sleepy, but attentive enough. Ryan rolled onto his side to face Frank and blinked sluggishly. “If you’re saying you’re thinking about me, I’m gonna be upset. If you’re saying you’re thinking about Gerard, I’m gonna be even more upset.”

“How did Brendon die?” Frank asked. When Ryan didn’t answer immediately, Frank scrambled to find a way to explain himself. “I just, I was thinking about what all of you guys have been through. Honestly, when I get down to it, the worst thing to ever happen to me was moving away from James and Bob back in Jersey. Getting caught banging my best friend was basically the most traumatic thing I’d experienced until now, except that one time I was in a gas station that got robbed, but it wasn’t even that scary and I didn’t see the gun. Meanwhile, you’ve lost a boyfriend, Gerard has lost his brother and his mind, Pete and Patrick… They seem too willing to work perfectly together. Like they know they’re soulmates in a way like knowing you don’t want to die after nearly getting hit by a car. I just… I wanted to know about Brendon. And how you lost him. I thought maybe you’d need to talk about it.”

“Why would you think that?”

“Because you said your best friend wasn’t there,” Frank replied. “And I only like telling really horrible thoughts to my best friend. If yours was gone, you had no one to tell those horrible thoughts to.”

Ryan sighed softly in the darkness and Frank wished he could reach out and hug the poor guy without the gesture being taken the wrong way or scaring him. Frank was sure he could startle Ryan right off the bed if he wasn’t too careful. 

“I lived in Vegas before my dad and I moved here,” Ryan said. “My dad mostly raised me on his own because my mom decided that she didn’t want to be saddled to a solider and her stupid son and went off with some rich, fat asian guy who thought she had nice hips when I was really little. My dad needed to get away from the city, so it was just as well. We moved out here after I finished elementary school because of… a loss. There was a loss in the family of people close to us. My dad wanted to move me away so I wouldn’t be haunted. I started middle school here. That’s when I met Brendon.”

“In class?” 

“Mr. Hollabutt’s third period geometry,” Ryan affirmed. “I almost laughed when the guy first said his name and Brendon was giggling beside me. He drew me a picture of Mr. Hollabutt with a butt for a face singing that Gwen Stefani song. It was sixth grade and we were idiots. We were friends from then on, eating lunch together and shit. He didn’t have a lot of friends cause he had a ton of siblings and no one wanted to mess with Brendon’s older sister.” Ryan smiled a bit. “He shared his apple slices with me and I always brought peanut butter for us both. We’d throw peanut butter slices at the ceiling of the cafeteria and count how long they’d stick.”

“We’d do the same with pencils,” Frank said. “Me and my friends James and Bob. We’d throw them at the ceiling and they’d get stuck in the foam. I think I’ve left more pencils in the ceiling than memories of me in that school.”

Ryan chuckled and squirmed closer to Frank on the bed. “Those guys seem cool.”

“They are,” Frank said sadly. “What happened with Brendon?”

Ryan shrugged. “We were friends. Then friends became more than that after he kissed me on a field trip to the aquarium in Portland. We’d been standing in front of the shark tank and I made some dumbass joke about Jaws and the size of his girly butt. And he looked at me and then kissed me and it was like fireworks, Frankie, god.” Ryan sounded reverent as he remembered. “It was like the world was being set on fire to make way for something more perfect and beautiful than anything that had ever existed. It was the best kiss of my life, Frank. And we dated for three years from then until the summer of freshman year when he…”

When Ryan trailed off, Frank reached out pressed his fingers into Ryan’s hair, stroking the curls back with slow motions of his arm. “Did Brendon have a history of mental illness?”

“If you’d call ADHD that,” Ryan snorted. “He was a really happy guy, Frank. And not that fake kind of happy where he’d be broken hearted once everyone was out of the room. It wasn’t fake. It wasn’t pretend. He was genuinely happy. He was upbeat and positive and optimistic. If anything, I was the depressed one of us both, but he handled that so well and tore me out of my shell. Made me smile. He wasn’t depressed, Frank. Wasn’t anything. He was happy and smiling and making references to Star Wars one minute, and the next, while I was buying a hot dog, he was up there.”

“How did it happen?” Frank asked. Those last few details didn’t make sense.

“We’d gone to Portland on a date,” Ryan sighed. “A supervised one, mind you. My dad and his dad joined us. Both of them were cool with us being stupid homos. And we were downtown, looking at the skyscrapers. I told him I’d get him a hot dog cause he was complaining about being hungry. After the obligatory dick sucking joke, I turned around, bought the hot dog, and then looked up to see him thirteen fucking stories high, on the ledge of an abandoned building.”

Frank frowned. “Just like that?”

“Just like that,” Ryan repeated with a nod Frank could feel through the mattress. “Do you see what I’m trying to tell you? It’s literally impossible for him to have been able to do that. Lack of reasons to kill himself aside, he couldn’t have possibly made it up thirteen stories in the span of buying one fucking hot dog at an outdoor food stand with no line.”

Frank didn’t know what to say.

“A crowd came around when I shouted for him,” Ryan said. “Someone called the cops, I think. I kept yelling for Brendon to turn around and walk away. Someone tried to get into the building, but the doors were all locked and so were all the windows. Even to this day, no one fucking knows how he got in there. And the second he stepped off the ledge, the second he dropped, going face first, I-I ran to him. I was trying to catch him. But I got there a split second too late. I was close enough to see his head crack open. His body… His blood and brains. Some got in my mouth and I…”

Ryan shuddered and Frank’s hand was frozen in Ryan’s hair. 

“Some couples are weird,” Ryan told Frank after a long moment of silence. “They say they want to know the body of the person they love in a way beyond sex. That they want a part of them inside them forever. I swallowed Brendon’s skin. I had him in my mouth. My dad… back home, caught me trying to swallow boiling water. The doctors put me on stuff to help with the trauma. The pills made me crazy. I just wanted to get the taste of his blood from my mouth more than anything.” Ryan sighed again and Frank forced his hand to move, to show he wasn’t as shocked as he felt.

“As far as fucked up kids go, you’re definitely the most fucked up kid I’ve ever met,” Frank said. When Ryan choked out a tiny laugh, Frank knew he had to keep going. He had to show Ryan he wasn’t going to treat him any differently. “I mean, what the fuck, Ryan? Not that any of this shit is your fault, that’s just gotta be some of the unluckiest fucking bullshit I’ve ever seen the world throw at one person. Talk about totally fucking unfair.”

“I appreciate your two cents,” Ryan chuckled. “And, uh, thank you. For letting me do this. I do feel, like, marginally better.”

“Anytime,” Frank said.

“It’s just, it’s insane,” Ryan said, sounding a little exasperated now. Frank was glad he hadn’t cried. Ryan seemed like the kind of guy to absolutely hate crying in front of other men. “The reason we moved? It was because my best friend, Spencer, drowned in his fucking pool. I hadn’t even been there. I just showed up one day to school and they told me my friend Spencer wouldn’t be coming to school anymore and then they tried to give me the death talk, even though I’d already had it. Then I come here, and Brendon dies. And then my father?” Ryan suddenly sat up and Frank’s hand was torn from his hair. Ryan brought his knees to his chest and wrapped his arms around them. Frank slowly at up too.

“… You know when you’re walking through a crowd, and see someone from far away? And you squint and you can swear that it’s this one person you know, but when you get closer, you see it’s not them at all? That happened to me all the fucking time after Brendon died. I’d see a boy in the distance with dark brown hair and too much energy and I’d think, “there’s B— better go say hi.” But it was never fucking him. And now I’m seeing my dad in crowds, and I have all these fucking ghosts at my heels, and… I mean, what if that happens with you guys?”

Frank reached out to stroke Ryan’s hair again. “What do you mean?”

“What if you and Gee become those ghosts?” Ryan asked. “I know I’m an asshole, keeping Gee at arms’ length, but that’s only cause I’m scared of him getting close to me again and then just tearing himself from my life. I don’t want to have to go through that again. And what if you or him get hurt? I’ve got three ghosts, Frank. I’m young. I’m only seventeen. I don’t need another.”

“You and I both knew how dangerous this was gonna be,” Frank told him. “Gerard kept you away from it for a reason…”

“I’m not saying I’m going to quit. I’m not saying you should either.” Frank got the inkling that maybe Ryan was looking at him while he spoke. It was too dark to tell, but Frank wasn’t cold. Ryan’s warmth was spreading to Frank by his arm. “I’m just saying that we’ve got to be a little more careful. No more running in with half of an idea of what to do. We would’ve been killed in that shower if it hadn’t been for Gee’s superhuman shit. We’ve got to be careful. More attentive and deliberate. We’ve been putting ourselves and the victims in way too much danger, and now we have Ray involved in this too. Ray isn’t gonna be like you and me, where we experienced shit first hand. He’s a third party victim. He’s just trying to live his life. He doesn’t want anything to do with all this shit. We’ve got to be more careful for him.”

“Were him and Mikey really that close?” Frank asked.

“Closer,” Ryan sighed. He paused. “We should get some sleep, Frankie. We’ve got school tomorrow.”

Frank flopped back onto his bed and Ryan dropped onto the mattress beside him. “Do you think I’m gonna die here?” Frank asked Ryan. “I’ve been thinking that I will, and I really don’t want to. I don’t want to die at all. But I can’t pretend what I’ve seen didn’t happen, either. So I can’t fucking back out, but… I really don’t want to die.”

“You’re not gonna,” Ryan said firmly. “I’ve said it once, I’ll say it a thousand more times. You’re not dying. Neither is Gerard. Got it?”

Frank nodded and squeezed his eyes shut. He felt cold until Ryan moved over and pressed his shoulder to Frank’s. When Ryan gave no explanation as to why he initiated the touch, Frank smiled a bit and relaxed.

. . .

Pete and Patrick, oddly enough, were happy to see them the next day and welcomed Gerard into their small group for lunch. Pete showed Gerard the cool ways he would flick on his lighter and Patrick kept staring at Pete’s hands. 

Ryan and Frank were talking about how they were going to try and get homework done while focusing on more important things when their group was approached by a timid looking Tyler Joseph and an exhausted Josh Dun. In the back of Frank’s mind, he was pleasantly shocked that Josh was, in fact, still alive and waking. 

“I have a question,” Josh asked. He was only really looking at Ryan. His fingers were shaking.

“Anything,” Ryan responded, standing up straighter and giving Josh his full attention. “We’ll answer what we can, okay? Just know that there’s, like, no judgment here.”

Josh’s brow furrowed. “That… What do you think I’m gonna say?”

“I have no idea,” Ryan replied honestly. 

“I just want to know about being cold,” Josh murmured. “I-I’ve tried everything. Sweaters, heated blankets, tea— nothing works. And I’m just always so cold. Like my skeleton is made of ice or something and so I can’t ever warm up.”

“Me too,” Tyler almost whispered.

“Touch,” Frank said before Ryan could reply. “I mean, touching other people. Right?” He looked to Ryan. “That’s what I’ve noticed.”

Ryan looked a little surprised. “I, uh… Yeah. Yeah. That definitely works for me.”

Frank smiled a bit. At least now he knew he wasn’t a fucking creep, getting off on the warmth of others. It seemed like it was a definite way to fight the vein-deep cold. “I’m thinking anyone that experiences an out of body experience with these things goes through debilitating cold that never goes away,” Frank explained to Tyler and Josh. “And the only thing I have found that drives away the cold is skin to skin contact with another person.”

“Hugging my mom doesn’t help,” Tyler choked out.

“Maybe it’s someone who went through the same thing,” Ryan suggested. “Have you tried touching Josh?”

Tyler scrunched his nose up but Josh instantly reached out and snatched up Ryan’s hand. Frank could see how white Josh’s knuckles were and how tightly he was squeezing Ryan’s hand, especially with how Ryan winced. But Josh had this expression of relief wash over his face seconds later and Frank knew Ryan wouldn’t be able to pull away. Josh clung to Ryan’s hand, staring down at their touching skin, like he could see something being transferred between them. 

“… You’re warm,” Josh breathed, finally looking up to meet Ryan’s eyes. Ryan stared back, a faint blush creeping up his ears. 

“Uh,” Ryan said dumbly. “Yes.”

Josh managed a smile and didn’t let go of Ryan’s hand.

Pete let out a low whistle in the background while Patrick started to hum “Kiss the Girl.”

“Jesus, guys, not the time,” Ryan huffed, not pulling away from Josh’s hand. “This…” He couldn’t really come out and explain how serious this was. “Just, not the time, okay?” Pete pouted while Patrick just shrugged. Josh didn’t seem to mind, though. He even smiled a tiny bit. 

“Your friends are dumb,” Josh murmured. He stared down at their hands. “… So, I, uh… I’ve been meaning to ask. Been waiting for the right moment, but now… After what happened to me, I’ve realized that anything could go wrong in a matter of seconds. For fuck’s sake, I was just taking a shower when suddenly I was… possessed. By someone. I’ve got to stop putting this stuff off, you know? A-and I’m so cold, but…”

Josh bit his lip and looked up at Ryan was an obvious shyness. Ryan just looked very confused. Frank wanted to laugh. He knew what Josh was going to ask— Josh’s infatuation with Ryan had been clear as day when he’d first seen the way Josh looked at Ryan. Now Josh was gonna actually do something, and here Ryan was, oblivious and dumb as a fucking rock.

When Josh saw Ryan wasn’t catching on, his face fell a little and he sighed. “I mean… Never mind.”

“What? No,” Tyler said.

“C’mon, man,” Frank sighed in exasperation. 

“What are you guys talking about?” Ryan asked, so fucking confused it would’ve been endearing if it wasn’t pissing Frank off so much. 

“It doesn’t matter,” Josh said, pulling his hand from Ryan’s. His expression became heavier when the touch ended. Ryan frowned and tried to reach out and reconnect their skin, but Josh kept himself out of arms’ reach by stepping back towards Tyler, who looked very, very sad. “Thank you for your help. Good to know I don’t have to be freezing fucking cold forever.” Josh made himself laugh. “I, uh, I just want to say thanks, too. Thanks for saving me and stuff. All three of you.” He nodded. “Just kinda wish it hadn’t happened at all, you know?”

“You’re gonna be okay,” Ryan promised. “Even if it doesn’t seem like it right now. Just… keep your friends close and don’t be upset with yourself for needing to take time off every now and again. Just do what you need to do to cope.”

“Is that what you guys do?” Josh asked. “I mean, you take care of yourself, right? Ryan?”

“I’m fine,” Ryan said a little too quickly. Frank grimaced and stepped forward a little. 

“You should be more concerned with yourself,” Frank told Josh. “Stay indoors and stuff. We don’t know if they’re more likely to target you again because you’re the one that got away, you know? All persons who were possessed either died in the process or died the next day from a heart attack. You’re obviously still alive, of course, so we have no idea what to think. We can’t predict what happens from here with you. So we can only advise that you stay safe and stay indoors. Maybe, like… carry a rosary around or something?”

Josh looked bewildered. “Where would I even get that?”

“Here,” Gerard said, suddenly scrambling forward with something clasped in his hands. He held it out to Josh, opening his palm to reveal the black beaded rosary with Mother Mary’s pendant carved into wood. “Take this,” he told Josh with a gentle smile. “It’s dangerous out there, you know. I get that it may seem dumb, but having this with you should at least make you feel better. Are you religious?”

Josh shook his head. “What kind of god would let his people be possessed by the demons he had a hand in creating?”

“Seems more like the fucked up thing a girl would do, anyways,” Ryan agreed. “God with tits. Probably not. Men would actually pay attention to god if he had tits.”

Josh laughed again, but it was more like a surprised burst of air, as if he hadn’t expected to laugh for real. Josh quickly covered his mouth with his hand, probably embarrassed about laughing at all. “I’d have to agree with you,” Josh said after a moment, looking to Ryan with the sun in his eyes. Fuck, Frank felt so much pity for this kid. Tyler reached out and tugged gently at the edge of Josh’s shirt.

“We should go, Joshy,” Tyler said. “We need to get you to makeup that test you missed.” Tyler nodded to the three of them. “Thank you for the rosary. And for saving him.”

Tyler and Josh walked away.

“That poor kid,” Gerard sighed. 

“Yeah,” Ryan agreed. “Can’t even imagine what it’s like to be possessed.”

“Well, that too,” Gerard amended. “I was talking about one sided love.”

Ryan frowned. “What? What’re you talking about?”

“Jesus christ,” Frank said. “I need a fucking smoke. Gee?”

Gerard nodded and as they walked away to bum cigarettes from Pete, Ryan threw his hands in the air. “What? _What?_ ”

. . .

“We can’t just expect these things to fall in our laps,” Ryan said as he walked between Frank and Gerard, one the way back to Ryan’s house after school. “I’d like Gerard to teach you and me how to use the ouija so we can all kinda take turns and figure out when and where these things are gonna show up. Could you do that, Gee?”

Gerard shrugged, then nodded. “If you’re not afraid of getting super freaky abilities like I have, then sure.”

“How does that ouija shit even actually work?” Frank asked. “You said you talk to ghosts?”

“I just talk to the terrified remnants of people who were possessed and consequently died,” Gerard explained. “They heard the whispers and stuff while they were possessed. The demons would sometimes tell them who the next target is. Not on purpose, just whispers. Names and stuff.”

Ryan looked to Gerard. “So you heard my dad’s name?”

Gerard’s footsteps faltered and Frank was worried he’d tripped. “I, I never…” Gerard looked down, biting his lower lip. “… Fuck, Ryan, I-I don’t know your father’s first name.”

Ryan stared at Gerard, then started laughing. There was a hysterical edge to his voice, but nothing scary. Ryan was just laughing and shaking his head as they walked. Gerard was watching Ryan with trepidation and Frank didn’t know what to make of any of this.

“George,” Ryan said after he’d finally calmed down. “My father’s name was George. I’m also really named George. George Ryan Ross the third.”

“So fucking pretentious,” Frank snorted. “Are you some kind of prince?”

“No, but I fucking had one,” Ryan griped with a hint of sadness. “And he was addicted to fucking flower clips. Those dumb plastic, pink ones that they give to little girls. I bought him a rainbow pack for part of his birthday present and he wore four of those fucking clips in his hair at once. He lost all of them within the week.”

“I remember how dorky he looked,” Gerard giggled, walking with Ryan on memory lane. Frank hadn’t known Gerard had known Brendon, but it made sense. “And he got you to help him paint his nails al those different colors cause he kept fucking up his right hand. And you helped him paint his nails every week from then on.”

Ryan laughed. “I fucking did! And he kept trying to dress me, saying that I was way too dreary looking. That I didn’t have to look as dreary as the weather always was.”

“For a kid who grew up in the rain, he sure did love the sun,” Gerard said softly. “And he always loved singing. Remember how he sang the national anthem at all of our graduations? He’d be the only one to try out for singing it because everyone else knew they wouldn’t be able to beat him. Except Patrick.”

“But Patrick didn’t care,” Ryan chuckled. “Patrick has never, ever given a shit.”

“Brendon always gave a shit, though,” Gerard said. “Brendon cared so much about everything. He’d always do the fundraisers and sell the chocolates and candles for the animals and people. And he’d always bring extra quarters if someone wanted chocolate milk. And he volunteered for helping with the dances and he volunteered at that shelter…” Gerard eventually trailed off. “Just… It’s insane.”

“Doesn’t seem right that he killed himself, huh?” Ryan asked, sounding like he was issuing a challenge. “Just doesn’t seem to fit his character.”

“I wouldn’t know,” Gerard said. “I wasn’t listening back then. And Ryan, there’s never been two demonic possessions happening so close together.”

“Just because he killed himself on the same week as Mikey went into a coma doesn’t mean it didn’t fucking happen,” Ryan snapped. “We’ve had shit happen in the same week. Josh and my dad happened within a week, didn’t I?”

“A Sunday didn’t pass between Mikey and Brendon,” Gerard said. “These things always reset after Sundays.”

“What the fuck?” Ryan asked.

“Why the hell didn’t you tell us this sooner?” Frank asked. “This is, like, a really good tidbit of information.”

“And that’s bullshit, again!” Ryan said. “The kid at the football game was on the weekend, and then my dad. Josh was only a few days after. There wasn’t a fucking Sunday between them, was there?”

“I, I think…” Gerard faltered. “Fuck. Fuck, I-it’s all falling apart.”

“Yeah, see? Your theory is shit.”

“No, no, my theory has been legitimate since the day I starting using a ouija,” Gerard defended. “It’s all true. It’s always been true. But do you realize what happened? What broke the pattern?” Ryan and Frank both looked very confused. “It was us,” Gerard said. “We made them change their pattern. We started fighting back and now they don’t know what to do. They’re breaking pattern. They’re going over Sundays.”

“God, why does it even matter?” Ryan asked with a sigh.

“Oh my god,” Gerard said, not answering Ryan’s question. “We’re saving people. This is horrible.”

“How is that horrible?” Frank demanded, sounding confused. Saving people was exactly what they’d wanted to do in the first place.

“If we’re saving people, then there’s no one for me to talk to,” Gerard said. “I won’t know who is going to be possessed next. It, it’s useless, guys. If we keep saving people, we can’t communicate. We can’t find out who they’re going after next and then we won’t be there in time and they’ll die.”

“And we’ll talk to the dead one,” Frank said. “So it’s every other person.”

“That’s not gonna cut it,” Ryan said. “We need another way to find these things out. Maybe the people who survived heard things? What if we talk to Josh?”

“You sure you wanna do that?” Frank asked with a wince. “He was pretty upset about being rejected.”

“I have no fucking idea what you’re talking about,” Ryan sighed. The worst part was that he was being completely honest. He had no fucking clue. Frank felt very, very sorry for Josh. The poor kid was barking up a dead tree. “But maybe you’re right,” Ryan amended. “Josh probably needs some time before he can talk about what happened. I’ve, uh, I should be more considerate. Right? He’s been through a lot.”

“He’s just a kid,” Gerard agreed. Frank nodded with him.

“We still need to figure out how to find out these things are going to happen before they do,” Ryan sighed. “Going off of your omens and signs and shit won’t really help anyone. We can’t do much with flying birds. Birds fly from more than just demons. And bugs are fucking hard to see, dude. They’re tiny little fuckers. I can’t spot a fucking lady bug without my glasses.”

“Oh my god, you wear glasses?” Frank asked with a snort. “That’s fucking adorable. And definitely a bad idea. If you can’t see a ladybug without glasses, you need t get contacts. We don’t want some demon possessed person stomping on your glasses and leaving you half blind in the middle of an exorcism.”   
“I can see just fucking fine without them, you ass,” Ryan huffed, not sounding angry at all. “And you don’t even—”

“Guys,” Gerard choked out, stopping in the middle of the road. “S-speaking of the birds…”

Frank and Ryan stopped walking with him and looked ahead, down the road. Black birds flew upwards from behind a single figure standing in the middle of the road. The figure swayed and stood unsteadily, head meant downwards, toes turned inwards. Frank took a few steps forward, needing to get a better view, to see if he recognized this person.

“Who is that?” Ryan asked. 

Frank saw Gerard shake his head and felt a little relief in knowing it was no one they knew. But the relief was short lived. He could tell this was a girl, a young girl, probably in sixth grade or something. She was wearing a pink dress with chucks and a jean jacket. She had dark brown hair that was in knots in front of her face. A clicking noise was coming from her, like the sounds the blind would use for echolocation or whatever it was called. Then Frank saw her lift her hands and reach out for them, like someone out of a zombie flick. Frank couldn’t stop himself from backing away.

“I’m here to give a friendly message,” the little girl said in a gravelly tone, like a chain smoker who had puffed three packs of cigarettes laced with agent orange or something that could melt her throat just as severely. She lifted her head and Frank blinked. In that mere split second, she went from a few yards away to right in front of their faces, only a foot of space between them. Gerard flinched away and Ryan snapped forward, reaching into his backpack from something he could use as a weapon. He pulled out a fucking textbook and held it like a shield, but it was honestly better than nothing. “No reason to fight, fear children,” she giggled with piercing red eyes. “Just wanted to let you know… To bring in a new player, you must first sacrifice one that already exists.”

“What the fuck does that mean?” Ryan demanded. “Who are you?”

“Oh my god, Ryan,” Gerard groaned “How many fucking times do I have to tell you—”

“I am a mere servant,” she cooed. “I am deserving of no name. No title of my own. But I can give you the name of the one you should fear…”

“Who?” Ryan demanded, brandishing the book like it was a sword. She eyed the words on the textbook and giggled again.

“Trigonometry,” she read aloud, squinting. “I have always wondered at the human ability to make something out of garbled noises and the rantings of mad men, desperately wishing to make sense of the world. What do you call your saving grace? The Fibonacci sequence? You look to the numbers you created to understand the very thing that created you… Like diagnosing your mental illness with your own brain.”

“Who should we fear?” Ryan demanded. 

“Lucal,” the girl almost purred. She ran her tongue of her lips at the last syllable like she was tasting the word. “It’s seen how you’ve been trying so hard. It wants to lend you a hand. You know it well already. It has helped you before. It wishes to continue aiding you.”

“We’d never accept help from any of you,” Gerard choked out.

“Maybe not yet,” she sighed, sounding almost wistful. “Maybe not willingly.”

“Leave this girl alone,” Gerard said. “We, we’re done talking to you. Leave her.” Gerard straightened his posture and squared his shoulders. Frank realized Gerard was about to se his big boy voice. Frank grinned at the demon, thrilled that they could have the upper hand for once.

The girl twitched and her eyes went wide, but she slowly smiled regardless. “I’m leaving, dear brother, I promise. No need to send me away on your own. That little voice of yours hurts our poor ears. Just let me get her off the road, yes? Into a room. Out of sight. So no one feels the fever.” She reached out to touch Gerard’s face, but Gerard pulled back the second her nails grazed his skin. “Poor boy,” she lamented. “All that potential. Do us a favor? Don’t waste it on a few simpletons like us. We’re your allies, in the end. Save it for the big shots.” She smiled languidly then reached out as she’d done for Gerard, but to Frank. Frank didn’t move away in time. She took him by the jaw and Frank froze, looking into her red eyes and losing all sense of self.

_He felt like he was back in a dream, falling endlessly into nothing, vertigo making his head swim. His eyes rolled into the back of his head as he struggled to ground himself and the red eyes turned in James’ eyes, brown and soft and lit up by the fluorescent lights of a school Frank couldn’t see._

_“You can’t be leaving,” James said, sounding just as broken as he had that day. “You can’t leave after this. You promised me…” James looked away, blinking back tears that Frank couldn’t stomach to see._

_“If you leave, I may as well kill myself,” James choked out._

_Frank shook his head and prayed James didn’t mean that. He couldn’t mean that._

_Flames lit up his field of vision, freezing his fingertips but creating more light than he had ever experienced. Screams filled his ears with the sound of nails scratching wood and feet on the floor, hands pounding on the walls. The cacophony of terrifying noises continued for what felt like hours only to all be silenced at once by a large crash, like a collapsing ceiling._

_**let him go** , the flames whispered into Frank’s ears. **and save us**_

_**burn them all** _

_The flames were suddenly extinguished Frank felt himself hit some sort of ground in the endless darkness_ and suddenly saw light again, blinding sunlight from the sky filtering between the trees. Ryan and Gerard were both looking down at him, both reaching and trying to pull him back to his feet, both demanding if he was okay with frantic edges to their voices. Frank gaped up at them like an idiot and his feet kept sliding out from under him.

He looked ahead and saw the little girl was gone. 

“What the fuck, Frank?” Ryan asked fearfully. “What the fuck?”

“Are you okay?” Gerard asked with a trembling voice.

Frank looked to Gerard and reached up to tangle their hands together. He didn’t like the look on Gerard’s face. He looked broken down and scared, and Frank felt bad for saying that he felt he should fear Gerard the other day. This fucking idiot was all stammered ramblings and baby fat and doe eyes. There was no reason to fear anything about him. 

“Get him up,” Ryan said hurriedly. “Get him up. We have to get out of here. Somewhere safer.”

“Who was that girl?” Gerard asked as he helped Ryan with the final effort of getting Frank to his feet. “Who was she? We need to find her parents. She could be hurt, right? We might need to talk to her. We need to find out who’s next.”

“Frank just fucking collapsed,” Ryan snapped. “We’re taking care of him first.”

“I can’t let James die,” Frank murmured, uselessly scuffing his shoes across the ground as Ryan and Gerard dragged him. He couldn’t walk because his legs were so cold they felt numb. He was shaking a little, he was sure he had to be, but Ryan and Gerard were both touching him and the warmth was coming back. It had to be coming back.

Franks head swam. He bent his head and vomited down the front of his shirt, then blacked out.

. . .

“What did you see?” Ryan asked once Frank had woken up on the mattress on the floor in Ryan’s old room. “You were screaming, Frank. Or shouting. I honestly couldn’t tell the difference. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head. I could’ve sworn your fucking soul was being dragged out of your body.”

“Can I borrow a phone?” Frank asked weakly. “Any phone at all?”

Ryan sighed. “I don’t… Sometimes the phone works. But it would require you standing.”

“I need to get to the phone,” Frank insisted, trying to sit up. Ryan rested a hand on Frank’s chest to keep him down.

“Whatever you saw,” Ryan told him. “It was just that thing trying to get to you. She just wanted to control you. She wanted to make you afraid.”

“James told me he would kill himself if I left,” Frank choked out. “You have to understand. You have to.”

Ryan flinched and Frank knew he got it. Out of everyone in this fucking town, Ryan would understand how fucked up that kind of threat was. Ryan would know how much it hurt to hear those words from the lips of someone you loved. Fuck, Frank was sure Ryan would’ve given anything to have received some sort of warning from Brendon before it had happened. 

“… She just wanted to get inside your head,” Ryan said halfheartedly.

“She was already fucking in my head,” Frank swore. “And she made me see that. Please, Ryan. James is the reason I know who I am, he was my first fucking love, I-I have to get to him. I have to hear from him.”

“Frank, the phones here never work,” Ryan told him, still keeping his hand on Frank’s chest. The warmth was filling Frank’s veins, but his chest remained cold the longer he thought about James’ corpse lying in some morgue. He wondered if his body had lately been as cold as dead ones. “If James had done something like that, you would’ve heard. A letter or something. Your mother. You would know it had happened, I swear that to you. You would know. Your friend is okay.”

“She got into my head,” Frank choked out. “It was dark and cold like the dreams but I was awake.” Frank blinked slowly and suddenly began to breathe too quickly as the reality of what had happened dawned on him. “They can get in our heads, Ryan. They’ve been in our heads.”

“That can’t be,” Ryan choked out. 

“Where’s Gerard?” Frank asked, trying to sit up again, scrambling for something to hold onto and help pull himself up. Ryan let him sit up this time, but still didn’t give him room to stand. “We’re not safe, Ryan. None of us are safe.”

“He’s with Mikey,” Ryan said. “He had said he needed to see his brother.”

“They’re inside our heads,” Frank choked out. “They’ve been warning us about that boy.”

“Did she say anything about whoever it is this time?”

“She said that we needed to let him go,” Frank mumbled, eventually falling back onto the mattress. “We need to let him go. To save them. She also said to burn them all. And I saw fire…”

Ryan scowled. “After what they’ve done to us, I’m not eager to give them any fucking favors.” He finally stood up and handed Frank a glass of water from the floor. “When you’re able to stand, you’re coming with me. I’m getting Ray and getting to the bottom of this.”

“Where are we going?” Frank asked, still breathing irregularly.

“There’s only ever been one fire in this fucking shitty town,” Ryan said. “We’re going to the old church.”

Frank shuddered and suddenly didn’t want to get up anymore.


	9. There’s a Hole in My Eyelids So I can’t Look Away

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> don't go into the basements of random churches, boys and girls.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> unfortunately this chapter is a few hundred words short of the regular length. i've been struggling with my physical health this past weak or so and it hasn't really been getting better, but i've got an awesome plan for what's coming up next, and it's gonna be super fun. or as fun as this shit can be.
> 
> Song Rec: **"Civilian" by Wye Oak**

“Why do I have this?” Ray asked as they trudged through the woods. Ray was referring to the god damn sword Ray had in his hands. Ryan had told Ray to bring a weapon after they’d ran to the church and grabbed him to follow along in their stupid, stupid adventure. Frank wasn’t sure what Ryan wanted to look for. Ryan had been to this old church countless times on his own and never found anything. Frank didn’t know why he thought it would turn out any different this time.

“You need to protect yourself,” Ryan told Ray. “On the off chance that you can’t actually exorcise the thing, or that Frank and I aren’t able to protect you, you must use that as a last resort. We don’t want to hurt the vessel, but if it comes down to them or you, it’s always gotta be you. Got it?” Ryan stopped suddenly and stood in front of Ray. “You are not a part of this, regardless of what the priest says,” Ryan told Ray firmly. “You look out for yourself above everything else, okay?”

“I’m not stupid,” Ray said with a frown. “Nothing’s going to happen, Ryan. We’re gonna go to your little funeral ground and find nothing and then we’ll go home to nothing and then you’ll have to face the fact that this is all absolutely nothing.” Ray brushed past Ryan, shaking his head. “You’re all caught up in one of Mikey’s insane sci-fi books,” he mumbled. “You know the hero almost always dies in those, right?”

“I think I see it ahead,” Frank told them cautiously. “We should keep moving.” Ryan sighed and nodded, moving to walk beside Frank. “We’ll keep an eye on him,” he promised Ryan. “Ray’s gonna be the most okay of all of us by the end of this.”

“Ray doesn’t deserve any of this,” Ryan said. “He’s been through so much.”

“Haven’t you?” Frank parried. Ryan didn’t respond as he looked straight ahead. 

Ray slowed ahead of them as they reached the mangled ruins of the church.

“I don’t know how I didn’t think of this before,” Ryan snorted. “After my own place was burned. Fires don’t happen naturally here, Frank, cause of all the fucking rain. Floods are more of a problem than anything. It’s difficult to get a fucking campfire going, let alone burning an entire house, so I should’ve known from how it was able to keep the garden on fire.”

“Known what?” Frank asked. He stopped with Ray while Ryan kept going, climbing the creaky stairs and looking up and down the old structure of the church.White paint flecked off with Ryan’s fingers as Ryan searched for something.

“There’s only been two fires in this whole god damn town and one of them for sure was demon related because it was the thing possessing my father.”

“Caym,” Frank agreed, nodding to show he understood while Ray just gaped at them and their conversation. Frank was sure this would sound insane to any outsider. 

“Your vision with Nobody, the girl? Gonna call her Nobody. Your vision with her and the fire could only be about this church.”

“Why couldn’t it be about your house?” Frank asked.

Ryan huffed in frustration when he didn’t find what he was looking for, then turned to Frank. “Well, you tell me,” he prodded. “Elaborate. What happened with the fire in your head?”

“I honestly don’t know,” Frank confessed. “I just, I knew there was a fire. The flames touched me, but you know the darkness. It was too cold to hurt. And there were people screaming and running and begging, like they were trapped somewhere.”

“See?” Ryan gestured back to the church. “People were burned alive in here, Frankie. They were awake and breathing as their skin was fucking melted from their bodies. That’s got to be what your vision was. And the fact that a demon was showing it to you means that a demon did it. And I think, maybe, that is the first demonic occurrence in this town. I think this place is significant. We have to get a closer look.”

“You think we can find something?” Frank asked. “A clue?” He stepped towards the church with slight trepidation, but knew that he was buying Ryan’s explanation more than a little. Ryan had a habit of explaining crazy things with a lot more sense than Gerard.

“I think this is a good place to start,” Ryan said, climbing the steps again and pushing open the doors. They protested with screeching nails and the Frank could see that that the ceiling was sinking dangerously inwards. He made a mental note to listen to any sort of cue that could suggest the ceiling was going to collapse and get them the fuck out of there.

“The back office is completely blown out,” Ryan said. “The whole wall fell so we’ve got more than one exit should it be necessary.” Frank just nodded and made a mental note of that as well. They had no fucking idea what could happen in this church. “I was thinking we should check out the basement,” Ryan added.

Frank guffawed. “There’s a fucking basement?” he demanded. “And you want us to go in it? There could be something down there!”

Ryan shrugged. “That’s kinda the point, dude. I’ve never gone into it before because why would I go into a fucking basement alone? But now I’ve got you guys.”

“I’m actually glad I brought the sword,” Ray said as he finally started to follow them inside.

“Where’d you even find that thing?” Ryan asked, looking to the weapon. He squinted at the handle and grinned. “Isn’t that the one you would bring to D-and-D? You were a fucking badass paladin, Ray.”

“It was in my back closet,” Ray sighed. “I don’t even remember bringing it with me when I moved out.”

“It’s cool to know you did,” Ryan commented. 

Ray didn’t respond, but he had a sour look on his face. “Basement, right?”

Ryan nodded and went to the alter, passing the pews. Frank looked to the pews and noticed larger black stains on them that went beyond regular burns. He got closer and saw some old sort of residue gathering dust. Frank reached out to touch it, but a large hand covered his own and pulled him back. Frank looked up to Ray with a question in his eyes. 

“Some of the people in here gave up,” Ray said softly. “Their bodies were found on the pews, sitting calmly. Some of them even bent on the knee rests like they were praying as they died.”

Frank wondered what he was talking about until he looked back to the stain. A shudder ran through his body and he jerked back, going cold. The stain was a person. Their skin was still stuck to the wood, old and decayed. That was a fucking person and Ray had just narrowly him from shoving his fucking hand into it

“Thanks,” he choked out. Ray just nodded and moved on.

“Found it!” Ryan announced in triumph. A bang followed his announcement, dust and ash flying into the air. “C’mon,” Ryan prodded them. “Did anyone bring a flashlight?”

“So much for planning ahead,” Frank griped, shaking his head. 

“I’ve brought one,” Ray said, surprising them both. He pulled out his keys and showed one of the smaller LED flashlights on the keychain. “It’s not much, but something, right? We won’t be blind down there.”

“Give it to me,” Frank said, holding out his hand. When Ray frowned and didn’t hand it over, Frank explained, “you should stay up here and make sure the floor doesn’t fall on top of us. Or that the ceiling doesn’t collapse. We need a pair of eyes up here and it’s probably a lot safer than down there anyways, right Ryan?”

Ryan shrugged. Ray scowled. “If you think I’m giving you kids my damn keys, you’re crazy,” Ray snorted. “You can stay up here if you want. I’m going down there.”

Frank looked to Ryan and Ryan shrugged again. “For someone wanting to keep Ray out of this, you’re doing a good job at keeping him in it,” Frank huffed.

“It’s a basement, Frankie,” Ryan reasoned. “It’s not like we’re going into the pits of fucking hell.”

“You don’t know that,” Frank accused as he looked down into the basement Ryan had found. “Fuck, Ry, look at this shit— the ladder itself is gonna fall apart in fucking three steps. What if there are spikes down there on the floor, like some shitty Indiana Jones crap? What if we get impaled?”

“Don’t be so dramatic,” Ray said, pointing the flashlight down the hole. The floor was a good three yards beneath them. Even the pitiful flashlight was able to light up the bottom easily. “See? We’ll be fine. I’ll even go first since you’re so scared.”

“I’m going first,” Ryan interrupted. He looked to Ray. “Keep that thing shining downwards, yeah? So I don’t end up slipping and cracking my head open.” He smiled at the end of his sentence, like he was trying to make a joke. He looked down the ladder and took in a deep breath before climbing down. Frank watched him go and distantly wondered why the fuck a church even needed a basement. “There’s nothing!” Ryan called up to them. “Come down!”

Frank heaved a sigh and climbed down the ladder, dropping onto the dry dirt and squinting into the darkness. “Can’t see shit,” he grumbled. “This has to be one of the dumbest things we’ve ever done.”

“You watch too many horror movies,” Ryan commented as Ray climbed down to join them. “There’s really nothing down here.”

Ray shone the flashlight around and Frank hated everything he saw. This basement was basically a rickety hallway that led to far off dead ends Frank could only barely make out. The floor was dirt and the walls were just planks of wood lied together. “It’s like this was built on purpose for something,” Ray said. 

“Of course it was,” Ryan commented. “You can’t just have one of these randomly under a church with a fucking door that leads to it.” Ryan paused. “Do you think there’s something written on that wall down there? Wait, what is that?” Ryan started walking towards the furthest end of the basement. Rya followed and Frank had to follow to keep the light.

“Jesus,” Ryan murmured, going down on his hands and knees. “This… It’s like, an old pot. And there’s this stuff on the bottom. What the fuck is this symbol?”

Ray got down with Ryan and reached out to trace his fingers through what looked like really, really old red or brown paint. It was a few circles filled with intricate symbols that looked like something out of one of Gerard’s demonology textbooks. Frank’s skin crawled when he noticed the knife lying off to the side.

“What the fuck happened here?” he asked in a low voice. 

“Kinda looks like someone summoned something,” Ryan murmured.

“Are you kidding?” Ray shook his head. “It’s a prank. Obviously. Some jack ass kid probably came down here and set this up for a Halloween prank. Fuck, one of you assholes could’ve done this, just to freak me out! It’s obviously fake, look, I’ll bet it tastes like sugar.” Ray scraped some of the stuff from the bottom of the pan and brought it to his lips with no hesitation. Frank and Ryan both stared in horror as Ray’s expression morphed into something of disgust. “… Did you kill an animal for this?” Ray asked after he got over the taste in his mouth.

“Ray, I think this is real,” Ryan told him almost shakily. 

“We didn’t make this,” Frank added.

“I think you just ate actual blood,” Ryan said. 

“Oh my god, fucking stop it,” Ray deadpanned, eyes wide and serious. “Stop it. Fucking drop the act and tell me what animal this is.”

“We don’t fucking know what it is,” Frank stressed. “It, it might not even be an animal!”

Ray gagged and bent over towards the floor, dry heaving. 

Ryan reached out and rubbed Ray’s back as he continued to look over the symbols. “I wish I had a camera,” he sighed. “It would definitely help to be able and find out what all of this means. Maybe we should bring Gerard back here. He could probably tell what it is.”

“It looks fucked up,” Frank added, creeping across the floor to get a little closer. He studied the spotty paint job and realized that stuff this was painted with was the same stuff in the bowl beneath. “Holy shit,” he said. “Pretty sure this is blood too. This is so fucking weird, guys. This is, like… a weird ritual thing.”

“Underneath the church?” Ryan sounded incredulous. “It can’t be demonic if it’s anything. Demons can’t step onto consecrated ground, right? And aren’t all churches consecrated?”

“None of the holy buildings in this town were ever blessed back then,” Ray told them once he was done puking. “The only consecrated ground we have here is the graveyard behind the new church,and the new church itself. That’s it. Everything else was just built on its own. Hell, this church? It was originally for protestant religions. I don’t know what kind of blessing shit goes into churches there, but it’s not the same as Catholic ones.”

“What the fuck?” Frank asked. “What kind of shitty excuse for a church were these guys running?”

Ray scowled at him. “Says the boy who turned his back on god. We know all about you and what happened back in New Jersey. Your mother comes to confession and the women’s guidance group all the time. All she does is talk about how she feels like she failed her god because her son is so far from her religion.”

Frank bristled and shoved Ray before he could think. “You don’t know a fucking thing about me!” he snapped, because all he could see was James behind his eye sockets, talking about dying. “I didn’t ruin shit for her, she ruined it all herself! We could’ve stayed there! I would’ve died in Jersey just as easily as I’m gonna die here!”

Ray scoffed. “You don’t know a god damn thing about this town. You’re just some kid who thinks his mom is out to get him when she’s just trying to bring you back to the light. She just wants to save your soul, you fucking dick, and instead, you take it out on her and neglect her and treat her so disrespectfully. She’s your god damn mother, Frank Iero, you cannot treat her with such cruelty and come away completely clean. God should never forgive children like you.”

“Woah, now,” Ryan said with wide eyes, throwing an arm between them. “Guys, jesus christ, can we not say such horrible shit at each other? Like, we’ve got fucking demons and sigils and shit down here. We can’t be fighting each other. Not down here.”

“What does that even mean?” Ray demanded. “You think all of this shit is real? You’re fucking crazy, Ryan, both of you are crazy, all of you are crazy! None of this is legit! That’s a fucking fake symbol and that’s not real blood and there is nothing happening in this town except for your own toxic insanity!”

The trapdoor suddenly above their heads slammed shut and the only light in the basement became Ray’s weak flashlight. Frank pressed himself against the closest wall and stared down the darkness at either side of his body. Ryan was in front of him, dimly lit by the LED light, appearing very unhappy.

“That thing better not have fucking locked,” Ryan growled. “Ray, light up the ladder. I’m gonna climb back up.”

“That’s the dumbest fucking idea you’ve ever had,” Frank deadpanned as his heart pounded out of his chest. “You could fall and break your neck. You could find someone’s up there and then they’ll knock you down and you’ll die when you hit the floor.”

“Don’t be so dramatic,” Ryan snorted as he grabbed the ladder and started to climb. He was nearly at the top in a matter of moments. “There’s literally nothing—”

Ryan stopped talking and stopped moving. He froze at the top of the ladder, staring upwards.

“Ryan?” Frank called out. “What the fuck is happening?”

Ray lifted the light and climbed two of the ladder steps. “I can’t see what Ryan’s seeing yet,” Ray narrated as he tried to get closer. “It’s almost like he—”

Ray suddenly stopped talking too and Frank grew increasingly nervous. “Ray?” he called out with an obvious tremble to his voice. “Ryan?” He forced himself to crawl away from the wall, moving through the dirt on his hands and knees. He was staring up at the ceiling, almost wishing he could shut his eyes and not see what was up there even though he knew he needed to find out. He finally got past Ray, who had been blocking his view of the bottom of the cellar door. A choked noise barely escaped his throat.

There was a face on the bottom of the door, just a disembodied, unblinking face. It had no hair anywhere on its skin, no eyebrows or hair atop its head, nothing at all. It’s lips were as pale as its skin and its eyes were as red as a demon’s. When Frank saw it, its eyes dragged away from whatever it had originally been staring at, and met Frank’s gaze. When eye contact was made, the face smiled slowly and cruelly. The skin around its lips began to tear, widening the smile to an unnatural width. The red in its irises started to bleed into the white and then into its skin. A drop of the red fell from its nose and hit Frank on the cheek.

It burned like fire and Frank blacked out.

. . .

He came to, lying on the forest floor. The ground was wet beneath his body and rain fell gently, but there was no sound, only the sensation of water hitting his skin. His clothes and hair were soaked and he felt too tired to move, like he had a horrible flu. Frank rolled his head to the right and saw Ray lying beside him. Then further, he saw Ryan sitting up, staring up at the sky, his mouth hung open and his eyes wide with no strength to his posture, like his spine was no longer in his body. Frank saw something leaving Ryan’s mouth, like the way you could see heat coming off of a fire. A roar rang through Frank’s ears, and then the world became utterly silent.

Ryan collapsed onto his side like a puppet with snipped strings, and then Frank was unconscious again.

. . .

He woke up on the floor again with a lot more sound than before. There were bugs making noises and birds chirping and the sun was setting, Frank could tell because the light was going away. Ray was struggling to his feet, his arms shaking so bad that his hair was quivering with the his body. Frank groaned loud enough to draw attention from Ray, and Frank’s own noises sounded muffled and far away, with a little bit of distortion from being underwater. Frank distantly wondered if he would sound like this if he was drowning. 

Ray scrambled over to him, barely able to stay upright, and tried to help pull Frank up. “We gotta go,” he choked out. “We gotta go.”

“Where’s Ryan?” Frank asked sleepily. 

“I don’t know,” Ray said. “I don’t fucking know, but we have to get out of here.”

“Where’s the church?” Frank asked.

“Does it fucking matter, we have to go!”

“Truck is by the church…”

Ray cursed and lowered Frank back to the ground again before looking around, stumbling a bit and nearly tripping over foliage. Frank had never seen him look so fucking panicked, like he thought things could go wrong at any minute. Frank wasn’t sure how things could get any worse. There’d been a face in the ceiling and suddenly they were in the woods with no recollection of which direction the car was in.

“Give me a second,” Ray said. “I promise I’ll be back, I swear to fucking god. I need to find the road. Don’t move.”

“I’m cold,” Frank said, realizing that he was actually freezing. On the outside, too. Ray stared down at him, then pulled off his sweater, the long sleeved thing he’d been wearing, and laid it over Frank’s body, leaving himself in only a t-shirt.

“Stay,” Ray ordered. “Just, stay.” He moved out of Frank’s line of sight and Frank couldn't really turned his head to watch where he went. Frank just shut his eyes and fell back into nothing.

. . .

Frank woke up in Ray’s truck.

The heater was on full blast and Ray was driving recklessly down the pitch dark road with his brights on. Frank squinted against the lights and tried to sit up. As he did, the sweater fell from his shoulders into his lap.

“Oh thank god, you’re awake,” Ray breathed, looking him up and down before turning back to the road. “You were basically dead in my arms, dude. I’m lucky you’re so fucking small, otherwise I would’ve had a hard time carrying you.”

Frank scowled weakly. “Not fucking small…”

Ray looked to him again, a little bewildered, and then laughed. “No, no, you’re just five feet and four fucking inches while I’m over six feet. But no, you’re not small at all.”

“Fuck you,” Frank grumbled, curling his knees up into the seat. He was trying to be mad because he didn’t want to acknowledge how fucking fucked everything that just happened was. Then he remembered the empty seat. “… How are we gonna find Ryan?”

“We’re gonna go to Gerard,” Ray said. “He’s the one who knows all this shit, right? He can find him. Fuck, I just really hope he’s not dead.”

“You swear a lot for a priest,” Frank observed. “I’m only saying that so I don’t freak the fuck out. How am I gonna sleep without Ryan tonight?”

“You sleep together?” Ray asked, scrunching his nose. “I’m just wondering how you’re gonna sleep at all. I know I won’t. God, do you remember that face? And its eyes? And the way its teeth clacked together… How it smiled.” Ray stared straight ahead. “I couldn’t move. I felt like I was frozen to the spot. I couldn’t… I couldn’t move, Frank. Did that thing take Ryan?”

“We were in the woods with Ryan,” Frank said, watching the road with Ray. “I woke up for a second. Something was coming out of his mouth. It was fucking scary, dude. It was like…” Frank bit his lip. “Look, I know you don’t believe in this shit, but it was like the thing that happens when we exorcise the people who were possessed. This stuff just comes out of them. Usually it’s darkness and it’s cold. But the stuff going from Ryan was clear. Like heat.”

“I don’t know what to believe,” Ray sighed. “Look, we’re almost in town. I, uh… Why don’t you stay at my place tonight? I have my own apartment.”

“This town has apartments?”

“They’re actually townhouses,” Ray corrected with a sheepish smile. “In town square, next to the park where they do the weekly produce market. Half of the place is vacant, so I get the rent for really cheap. And my neighbors are old, so they’re quiet and like to make me food. I tell them I’m fine, but they think I’m a good church boy who’s too busy to make his own food. They keep saying they can’t wait for the day that I bring a nice girl home.”

Frank wanted to bring up Mikey. Gerard and Ryan always said shit about Ray and Mikey, but it would probably be way too intrusive. Frank didn’t know this man at all. They’d only just met and Frank didn’t want to suggest they talked about Ray when he wasn’t around. “I really should be more freaked out about Ryan, shouldn’t I?” he asked to change the subject.

Ray grimaced. “It’ll happen. Give it an hour or so. It’ll happen.”

. . .

Ray really did have a nice place. As Frank stepped into the thresh hold, he felt like this was one of those fake homes realtors made to make people imagine their own shit in a potential home. There weren’t pictures or anything. Frank was sure that Ray had a box full of personal stuff from his past hidden away somewhere.

“Nice place,” Frank mumbled as Ray headed into the kitchen to open the fridge and pulled out what looked like leftovers. “… A real bachelor pad,” he added when he saw the beers on the coffee table. 

“I have a girlfriend, before you ask like those crazy neighbors,” Ray snorted. “I didn’t want to bring her here because my neighbors are so nosy. I figured she wouldn’t like them asking her questions left and right. And she’s always said she doesn’t want to cause me too much trouble, so she never wanted to come here.”

Frank was definitely skeptical. “What’s her name?”

“Christa,” Ray responded automatically. “And yes, she is real.”

“I thought priests were supposed to be celibate,” Frank commented idly.

“This church is pretty easy going with its rules,” Ray replied. “Father North is celibate, but he doesn’t mind me having a girl. He thinks a lot of Catholic rules are outdated and keep the religion from gaining popularity with its backwards and upright views and rules about being within the religion.”

“She must be nice, then.” Frank sighed and he knew he to ask about it.. “I just… Mikey?”

Ray stiffened, but kept doing what he was doing. He was microwaving what looked like fried macaroni and green beans and he grabbed a beer from his fridge. “Want one?” he offered. Frank definitely wanted a fucking beer and nodded. Ray grabbed him a beer and Frank felt bad for asking about Mikey when the guy was giving him a fucking beer, jesus christ, Frank.

“Mikey’s four years younger than me,” Ray said. “There was nothing there.”

“That’s something people say when there was definitely something,” Frank said as he opened his beer on his shoe. Ray looked mildly impressed by the trick.

“Mikey’s in a coma,” Ray replied. “Whatever we had doesn’t matter. He’s in a fucking coma and there’s nothing I can do about it. I can’t bring him back. I can’t wake him up. He’s gone and that’s all there is. The sooner Gerard and his mother have the guts to truly let him rest, the sooner I can sleep easy about him being happy.”

“He’s not dead,” Frank said.

“He’s fucking braindead and you know it,” Ray said, like it hurt to acknowledge the fact. Frank felt sorry for him. He’d seen movies with the same moral struggle. He knew both sides of this weren’t easy. “No matter how much I want to believe he’s awake, he’s not. And as a member of the church, I believe in a heaven. And I know that Mikey will end up in that haven. I’ll pray for him, pay for him. I’ll do all of the shit the church requires for him to get out of purgatory. But I can’t begin that process until the Ways let him rest.”

“Maybe they think he can come back,” Frank reasoned, trying his best to be delicate about this. 

“He hasn’t come back and it’s been three fucking years,” Ray bit out. “He’s gone.”

Frank sighed and looked to his beer before downing half of it, despite the taste. Cheap beer always tasted a bit too bitter for him, but he definitely wasn’t going to complain. “But you and Mikey. You were a thing.”

“And it was immoral,” Ray said. “Four years, Frank. He was a fucking kid. I took advantage of him.”

“I’m pretty sure you didn’t if Gerard supported it,” Frank snorted. “Gerard’s like a fucking guard dog for his brother. He wouldn’t have supported something like that if you were taking advantage of his precious kid brother.”

“It was an entire schooling difference,” Ray insisted. “I was a senior before he was even in high school. He had barely gone through puberty when I was already an adult.”

“I’m not gonna argue this shit,” Frank said. “I just… Gerard’s an idiot, but he’s smart. He wouldn’t have let that be a thing his brother if he didn’t trust you and think that you’re good for him or something. Like, I don’t know anything about what happened, but… I trust Gerard when it comes to stuff that involves thinking.”

“Right,” Ray said dryly. “You trust the guy who believes in demons.”

“He’s right, isn’t he?” Frank replied. 

Ray was quiet. 

Frank looked down at his beer. “… It still hasn’t hit me.”

“I think that thing put us into a type of mental shock,” Ray said. “I’m having trouble feeling some things, like anxiousness or worry. It’s almost like it paralyzed us from feeling certain things. So we wouldn’t look and that would give it time to escape.”

“Do you think it took Ryan?” Frank asked far too calmly for him to like. 

“I think Ryan’s safe, somewhere,” Ray reasoned. “I’m sure he’s fine.”

“You don’t actually believe that,” Frank said.

“I’m not even sure why I’m fucking saying it,” Ray sighed, finally sitting on the couch. Frank sat beside him. “Ryan… Ryan could be dead. But something inside me is telling me he isn’t. Is that crazy? I’ve known Ryan for a really long time, though. And Gerard and Mikey. I met him through his father. Ryan’s dad was all about this greenery project and enjoyed teaching kids how to grow stuff. I liked learning about everything and Gerard recommended it. Ryan would sometimes be around and then Gerard was all, this is my friend, and I don’t know. Ryan was nice. He was smart. And he could talk about stuff and not sound like an idiot. And I don’t know. We all kinda became friends. But then…”

Ray sighed. “Then Mikey and Brendon happened. Gerard was a dick and pulled back from all of us. Ryan ended up getting closer to those two gay boys and our friendships just died.” Ray sighed again, then paused. “Holy shit, Ryan’s missing.”

Frank looked back to his beer. “It’s gonna hit me. I know it will.”

“I’m going to bed,” Ray said, standing. “You can have the guest bedroom. I-I know I’m a shitty host, but… Ryan’s gone. I, I need a minute.”

Frank watched Ray leave and knew that Ryan’s disappearance would hit him soon.

. . .

_The darkness was swallowing Frank up like water and Ryan was falling just above him, suspended by nothing in free fall. Frank’s fingertips started to be swallowed by the black, then his arms, then his legs and body. Frank couldn’t see himself but he could feel himself disappearing._

_Above him, Ryan opened his eyes. The white had gone red and blood began to run from Ryan’s eyes into Frank’s mouth. It was like the face in the ceiling, with a slow smile stretching across Ryan’s face._

_Then Gerard was just beneath Frank, whispering into his ear. “You wish I knew who I was,” Gerard told Frank. “You wish I could be who I am.”_

_**“I think we’re done waiting,”** Ryan said, still smiling. **“I think we can let this happen. We’re strong enough. We need him, anyways.”**_

_Frank felt himself hit the ground._

. . .

It hit Frank at three AM.

He woke up with a jolt, his heart racing out of his chest, tears streaming down his face, panic curling in his chest. He saw Ryan with red eyes and his innards falling out and hanging from a ceiling and he had no idea what to fucking do. Ryan was gone. Ryan was fucking gone. Ryan could be lying dead somewhere or some fucking monster could be riding his body and killing people and Ryan wouldn’t have any say and this… This was awful.

“Holy shit, dude, stop fucking screaming!” Ray shouted as he burst into the guest room, looking half asleep and freaked out of his mind. “You’re waking my neighbors, fuck, fuck!” 

Frank sobbed and ran a hand over his face to try to calm down, but it didn’t help. His hands were shaking too badly and he couldn’t stop tasting the blood in his mouth.

“Shit, you’re bleeding,” Ray said, grabbing a tissue from the box on the nightstand and bringing it to Frank’s mouth to wipe away the blood. It was an oddly motherly gesture and Frank wanted to frown or something, call him weird, except he had fucking blood in his mouth. “Did you bite yourself?” Ray asked. “Does your throat hurt?”

“Ryan bled into my mouth,” Frank choked out.

“Oh my god, what?” Ray asked.

“In my dream,” Frank clarified with a shaky breath. “In, in my dream. He bled in my mouth.” He sat up and looked around the room. “We need to go to Gee. We need to find Ryan.”

“He’s fucking in Portland, we can’t get to him!” Ray insisted, trying to keep Frank from getting out of bed and just running out of the fucking house. “We’ll get Ryan in the morning, I fucking swear we will, but Gerard isn’t here and we can’t go out at night, okay? We can’t fucking go out at night.”

“Ryan could die,” Frank stressed, going out of his mind. “Ryan could die and he’d die alone with, with that fucking thing, that fucking face in his body. He’s going to die. He’s going to go into cardiac arrest or he’s gonna get torn apart or his body is literally gonna twist itself into fucking twigs and he’ll bleed and die alone.”

“Fuck, Frank,” Ray sighed, pulling Frank back down onto the bed with his own larger body. “We can’t do anything. We can’t do a god damn thing. I’m sorry.”

Frank kicked out and kept trying to get up, but Ray was much bigger and stronger than him, which pissed Frank off and only made him fight harder. He needed to get up and find Ryan before he started bleeding like in his dream. “I need to find him,” Frank said. “I need to find him. I need to find him.”

“I’m about to put you in a fucking headlock to make you fall back asleep,” Ray said.

“I can’t sleep knowing he’s dying out there!”

“He’s not fucking dying,” Ray said firmly. “Just, just lie down, Frank. Stay down. I’m not gonna leave, I’m gonna lie here and make sure you fucking stay in bed and try to get some sleep.” Ray threw the blanket over Frank’s head while he stayed atop the comforter, because apparently lying under the blankets with Frank was just too fucking gay for this macho priest with the sacrilegious girlfriend.

Frank found himself seething with frustration and anger for a long time in the warm darkness of the blankets with strong arms literally binding him. He fell asleep angry.

. . .

Frank got up at five in the morning, when the sun was first rising, and forced Ray to drive him to Gerard’s house, fuming the whole time and tapping his foot anxiously. Ray just looked exhausted and occasionally voiced his concerns over his girlfriend, wondering if he shoulder advise her to visit her grandparents, hoping she wouldn’t mind that he had to miss their date tonight, all of these fucking stupid things that didn’t matter in light of Ryan possibly being dead. 

“If you don’t shut up, I’m gonna fucking elbow you in the dick,” Frank eventually snapped, tired of staring out the window in fury. “My fucking friend could be dead. Do you have any idea how serious this is?”

“Ryan’s my friend too,” Ray retorted weakly. 

“That’s fucking bull,” Frank said. “Call me crazy, but I got the vibe that you two haven’t spoken since Mikey, just like Gerard and Ryan. All of you are fucking stunted. Ryan doesn’t deserve such shitty friends.”

“We weren’t shitty friends, we were just…” Ray sighed. “We, we were going through our own stuff.”

“Right,” Frank deadpanned. “Gerard was mourning his brother and you were morning you dirty little secret. I fucking get it. Ryan still deserved friends that bothered to stick around and support him after his fucking boyfriend jumped off a building.”

“Brendon was a tragedy,” Ray said stiffly. “None of us could have helped him through that.”

“You could’ve fucking tried,” Frank accused with a scowl. “Me? I would’ve been there for my friends. Bob and James and I, we were always fucking there for each other, through thick and fucking thin. I could rely on then for anything and they could rely on me.”

“And yet look where you are now,” Ray shot back, bristling defensively.

Frank flinched like he’d been slapped, but knew Ray was right. All of his fucking talk, and he was a country away from his friends. He felt like he had betrayed them, a little. They’d made so many promises to each other, so many pinky swears and blood oaths, and Frank was breaking them all by being away from them and not being there for every moment of weakness and pain they experienced. He had promised to be there for them. He had promised. Now he was nothing more than a liar.

Ray pulled up in front of Gerard’s house and Frank barreled out of the car to avoid talking to Ray any longer. He slammed his fist on Gerard’s door over and over, mentally apologizing to Ms. Way, and apologizing aloud when she answered with wide eyes and a bewildered edge to her voice. Frank brushed past her and ran to Gerard’s room while Ray greeted her politely and she recognized him, so they talked for a few moments.

Frank, though, just burst into Gerard’s room without knocking, which was a mistake. Gerard was a fucking teenage boy and it was early in the morning, what the fuck had Frank thought would happen?

Gerard was lying on his back with the covers kicked off, stroking his fucking cock and he had two fingers up his ass (and he was totally fucking doing it wrong, jesus christ, going from over the top to finger yourself was so inefficient) and Frank couldn't stop staring because…

Fuck, this guy had kissed him.

And here he was, laid out on that bed, pale and pretty and panting and jesus christ, Frank was only a fucking teenager himself, and he was so fucking high on adrenaline and fear and anxiety and his blood was racing everywhere and it just made sense that he would get hard, too. He was bi; Gerard was a gorgeous boy. Frank was fucked up and his friend was dying and Gerard was naked and hard. Frank couldn’t think of a possible way to redeem himself. 

“Oh my god, Gee,” Ray blurted from behind Frank when he came into eyesight of this whole scene. Frank jumped and knew he had been caught staring, especially with the way Ray was looking at him. Gerard snatched his hand from his dick like he was burnt and rolled off his bed with a squeal, bringing the blankets with him and covering up quickly. Frank found himself blushing, probably in absolute shame, though he wasn’t sure yet.

“Get some fucking clothes on, Gee,” Ray ordered tersely, still staring at Frank. “Ryan’s missing.”

“Holy crap, where’s Ryan?” Gerard asked. Ray didn’t answer and grabbed Frank by the shoulder, pulling him into the hallway and shutting the door behind them so Gerard could get dressed.

“Whatever the fuck that was,” Ray said in a low, deadly voice. “You do not fucking watch anyone like that without their permission. Do you fucking understand me? You do not fucking cross any kind of line like that. You do not do a god damn thing without consent and you certainly don’t watch someone in a completely private moment without their fucking knowledge.”

“I didn’t mean to,” Frank choked out, feeling legitimately guilty. “I just, I opened the door, and he was like that, and I… I-I froze. I’m sorry.”

“You froze?” Ray repeated incredulously. “Jesus.”

“He kissed me a few days ago and I forgot about it until now,” Frank explained shakily. “I’m so sorry, everything is going so fucking wrong in my life, and I’m so fucking confused. Demons and possession and cute boys? What the fuck am I supposed to do?”

“Cute boys?” Ray made a face. “What the fuck does that have to do with demons?”

“Inner demons? I don’t fucking know!” Ray hushed him when Frank started to shout. “I don’t know,” Frank repeated in a whisper. “I just, I don’t know, okay? And neither does he, so it doesn’t fucking matter. What does matter is Ryan.”

Ray let out a slow breath and nodded. “Okay. Fine. If you say it’s all good, then it’s all good. We’ve got more important things to worry about.”

Gerard threw his bedroom door open and surprised them both. Gerard was flushed with embarrassment, or was that arousal? And his hair was a mess and Frank was pretty sure he was still hard, considering the fact that Gerard had chosen to wear a shirt that went down past his hips and crotch to hide any sort of additional bumps or curves.

“My ouija board is downstairs,” Gerard said, avoiding Frank’s eyes entirely. “Let’s go.”


	10. In Remembrance of Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> play some shitty eminem in the background of this one

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> song rec: **"Carrion Flowers" by Chelsea Wolfe**
> 
> betaed by: _HalseysChemicalRomance_

Gerard led them to the basement and pulled out the ouija board that Frank had heard so much about, yet never seen, from underneath the mattress Frank vaguely remember sleeping on. That night felt like ages ago. Frank wasn’t even positive that he had slept that night.

“How is this even gonna work?” Frank asked as he sat on the ground like Gerard had. “We have absolutely nothing.”

Gerard bit his lip. “…Remember the girl in the middle of the road?”

Frank nodded. Gerard didn’t seem very happy.

“Her name was Luella,” Gerard sighed. “She lived in a neighboring town. She died of a heart attack yesterday. Completely unexplained. The family is devastated.”

“Oh thank god,” Frank said before he could think any better. Ray looked to him, horrified, and Gerard even looked little disturbed by Frank’s outburst of relief. “I mean, fuck, it’s bad,” Frank quickly corrected. “A little girl is dead. That’s fucking bad. But that means we can talk to her. Ask her where Ryan could be. See if she knows anything at all. She was the latest possession — she should know something.”

“What even happened to Ryan?” Gerard asked. “I mean, I just saw him the other day. What did you guys do?”

“Ryan got the stellar idea to check out the basement of the old church that burned down and got kidnapped,” Ray replied. Gerard paled.

“You can’t go to that church,” Gerard said, looking between them intently. “You fucking can’t. All the of the dead have told me to stay away from there. There’s something in that church that’s evil. We can’t go there, guys, shit, why did you guys go without me? Why didn’t you even talk to me? You should’ve asked me if this was even a good idea, you idiots!”

“Wow, thanks,” Ray said dryly. “I was just dragged along against my own will. I completely and totally deserve to be chastised by you. Not even gonna mention how I wouldn’t even be with you psychos if it weren’t for Father North.”

“Point fingers later,” Gerard said. “You shouldn’t have gone. What exactly happened to Ryan?”

“We went into the basement,” Frank tried to begin, but Gerard interrupted him with a cry of indignation.

“You went into the fucking basement?!” Gerard demanded. “Who the fuck goes to a burnt down church that is absolutely swimming with demonic omens and goes into the fucking basement! Who goes into a basement in any other situation?! Why would you go into a fucking basement without fucking guns and the army and god him fucking self with you?!”

“God, Gerard, please, just stop tearing us a fucking new one and let me explain,” Frank huffed. “We went into the basement and found a symbol painted in blood and a pot of blood and it was fucking terrifying, Gee. Ray tasted it and it was blood. And then the door closed above us without anyone touching it. Ryan tried to climb up there but stopped halfway up and couldn't move so then Ray went to look and he couldn’t move either, and then I looked, and…it was a fucking face, Gee. It was a face and it bled on me and I blacked out. But I couldn’t move while it was looking at me.”

“It was probably some sort of protection thing,” Gerard said, like he knew what he was talking about. “Maybe a spell or something. There must be something you guys found that they thought was worth protecting. You guys stumbled onto something bad.”

“I woke up in the forest and saw something leaving Ryan’s body,” Frank said.

Gerard’s eyes went wide. “A demon?”

Frank shook his head. “Something like heat. It was clear and distorted the air like the gas burning over a grill. He dropped to the side and then I passed out again. He was gone when we woke up.”

Gerard bit his lip. “Okay. Okay. I’m going to try to talk to Luella now, okay? But we have to be careful. A demon could hijack this session and we wouldn’t know until it’s too late. So you guys have to do exactly as I say, okay? And don’t knock down any of the candles I set up and stuff. Oh, and wear your pentagram, because your simple little prayer charms won’t work for full protection unless you have someone like St. Benedict or Michael or Bruno.”

Frank’s eyes went wide and he pulled out his prayer necklace, showing Gerard the pendant. “St. Bruno,” he told Gerard. “I’m good.”

Gerard looked surprised. “Your patron saint is St. Bruno? Holy crap, Frankie, that’s really crazy. Like, a huge fucking coincidence.”

“Wanna know a bigger coincidence?” Ray asked dryly, before pulling his medal from his shirt. Frank squinted and saw St. Benedict on the Jubilee Medal and looked back to Gerard in alarm. Gerard looked a little freaked out.

“Things like this don’t just happen, guys,” Gerard told them slowly. 

“Let’s worry about that later,” Ray excused, tucking the medal away again. “We need to talk to whoever this girl was and find out where Ryan is.”

Gerard nodded and grabbed some candles from beside the bed. “You know, I-I had been relaxing this morning,” he told them with a nervous laugh. “I’d gotten to see my brother and enjoy myself in the city yesterday. Had some good coffee, talked with the nurses. Then came home, went to bed, tried to jack off when I woke up. Everything has gone so fucking wrong, and I feel bad for having a good day when it was the same day Ryan was fucking kidnapped.”

“It wasn’t your fault,” Ray said as Gerard started to light the candles. Gerard shook his head and set the candles all around the board. “…Should we turn the lights off?”

“We’re not trying to make a creepy atmosphere, we’re trying to get Ryan back,” Gerard said. “Okay, guys, we’re about to put our hands on the planchette and you’re not gonna take your hand off of it, okay? No matter what happens, you absolutely cannot pull away. If you do, you’ll fuck everything up. Don’t ask it anything, especially not a name, and let me do all the talking. Most of these spirits are scared. Most of them are in pain and afraid and lost. You have to understand that we can’t help them. We can’t save them. We can only ask them our question and hope they answer us.”

“And if they’re too scared to answer us?” Ray asked, sounding almost like he was mocking Gerard.

Gerard shrugged. “Never had that problem before.”

Ray quieted, looking a little sullen. Frank sighed and leaned forward, putting his fingers on the planchette and smiling tightly between the two of them. “Ryan?” he reminded them casually, figuring he needed to get them back on track.

Ray sighed and put his fingertips on the wooden heart and nodded. “Ryan.”

“Ryan,” Gerard repeated in a whisper. He shut his eyes and took in a deep, shaky breath before resting his fingertips on the wood. “The board is awake,” he told them softly. “The board is always awake these days.” He moved the planchette to rest of the “ G” in the near middle of the board.

He was silent for a long moment. Frank and Ray watched him expectantly. Frank was suddenly struck with the reminder that he never actually believed in this ouija board nonsense.

“Luella?” Gerard called out, eyes still closed. “Luella? If you’re there, please…we need to talk to you. Oh Luella, come to us now…aid us and be at rest.”

Nothing happened for a few long moments, and Frank was again reminded of how he’d always believed this to be a hoax. The candle smelled like vanilla and cinnamon and Gerard was still flushed from his “fun” this morning. Frank stared at Gerard, with Gerard’s eyes still out so his long lashes brushed his full, pink cheeks. There was something beautiful about the way Gerard looked while immersing himself in the occult. Maybe it was the passion he showed for understanding inherent and inexplicable evil. Maybe it was that Gerard had a love for something that brought purpose to his life. Maybe Frank was becoming obsessed.

“Luella,” Gerard repeated, even softer. “I know you’re scared. I know you’re lost. But we need your help. More people are going to be hurt like you were if we don’t stop these things. If we don’t find our friend. Please — we beg of you — help us.”

Frank wanted to interrupted when the wooden heart started to move. He let out a bark of laughter and traded incredulous looks with Ray before they both looked to Gerard. “Stop moving it on your own, Gee,” Ray said, but Gerard didn’t respond, his head hung. Frank couldn’t see his face. “Gerard?” Ray called out when Gerard didn’t initially respond. 

“Gee?” Frank added softly.

Gerard lifted his head and opened his eyes, but his pupils were rolled into the back of his head and Frank jumped while Ray choked on his own tongue.

“Holy shit,” Ray said as Gerard’s lips started to move with no sound coming from his mouth. Those lashes fluttered but Gerard’s eyes remained white. Gerard swayed as the planchette continued to move around the board, random circles and not landing anywhere until Gerard jolted to a stop with the planchette over the word “hello.” Gerard’s pupils slid back into place and he gasped for breath, chest heaving. But he still somehow wore an expression of accomplishment.

“Holy shit,” Ray said again. The planchette started to move again, aimless circles.

“The thing that took you from your home,” Gerard said, voice raspy. “It was a demon, wasn’t it?” The planchette moved to “yes” and Ray still looked like he didn’t believe this shit. “The demon… it had to have said things to you. It had to have whispered. What did it say?”

The planchette was still for a solid second before it moved to the letter “R,” then “Y,” then “A,” and finally “N.” Frank was a little disturbed that the demons talked about Ryan by name. Then the word “Joseph” and “church.”

“That was what the old church was called,” Ray told them. Gerard looked increasingly excited, like he was overjoyed the pieces were coming together. Frank would’ve been happier knowing the demons didn’t talk about them with others. 

“Wait, wait, she’s speaking again,” Gerard said. “Luella, you’re doing an amazing job, sweetie, and I want to thank you so much. You’re doing so well.” Frank looked to him and imagined Gerard giving this praise to a small little girl, cowering and scared. His heart clenched and the candlelight flickered as the planchette moved. Frank was still bewildered by the feeling of the planchette moving his arms around. 

“G-R-S-Y,” Gerard read aloud.

“What?” Ray asked.

“I have no idea,” Frank replied.

The planchette began to move in slow figure eights and Gerard winced.

“Thank you for everything, Luella,” he told her gently. “You’re very brave. Get some rest.”

Gerard manually moved the planchette to the word “Goodbye,” then pulled his fingers away. “Don’t touch the board,” he told them. “She needs to rest now. Hopefully she’ll find her way out of…wherever ghosts go.”

“What the hell?” Frank sat back with a scowl. “We didn’t even find out where Ryan is! We need to keep asking her questions, all she did was give us shit we already knew and then four fucking letters that mean absolutely nothing.”

“Could be Hebrew,” Ray supplied. “The original translation for the name of god was only four letters.”

“I don’t think the demons are going around, speaking the language of the chosen people,” Gerard said cautiously. “I think it’s a word of our own language. We’ve just got to figure it out, okay? And we have to keep looking.”

“Maybe we should drive around town,” Ray suggested. “Just get in my truck and, like, patrol. Maybe we’ll find him on the road or something. Maybe we’ll just walk right into him. It’s better than sitting here and trying to figure out what those four letters are, right? We need to actually be out there.”

Gerard sat back with a sigh and nodded. But no one took the initiate, and that was when Frank realized that Ryan was their leader.

“Let’s go,” Frank tried to order. It was weak and empty and he knew he wasn’t meant for that role.

. . .

“Are those sirens?” Gerard asked cautiously thirty minutes into their drive. They’d already made a loop through the whole town and seen nothing. Now they were seeing red and blue flashing. Ray pulled over and three police vehicles zoomed past them, heading back into town, the way they’d come.

Ray watched them go. All of them were quiet.

“Should we?” Ray eventually asked.

“We should,” Gerard affirmed.

Ray pulled the car off the side of the road and made a u-turn. “We got any weapons?” he asked.

“It’s funny how you were completely against this for ages, and now you’re basically an expert,” Frank commented, twisting around in his seat to look into the bed of the truck. “You’ve got a shovel, another shovel, a crowbar, and a rake.”

“I call a shovel,” Gerard said quickly.

“I call the other shovel,” Frank said.

 

“Fuck you, I’ve got that other shovel, it’s mine anyways,” Ray huffed. “You can have the rake. Or better yet, grab something from the side of the road, if you think the rake is just so fucking awful. But I want that shovel.”

“I can take the rake, Frankie,” Gerard said with a sheepish grin. Frank looked to Gerard and blushed, then shook his head.

“The rake is fine,” was all he said. He was half tempted to make some jab at Gerard’s fighting abilities to cover up how he was giving up the shovel for a shitty rake just because he didn't want to get Gerard hurt. Ray was looking at him like he knew exactly what Frank had done, and Gerard ducked his head, smiling to himself. Fuck, Frank knew that they both had seen right through him. Frank was such a sorry piece of shit.

“Fuck, is that the grocery store?” Gerard leaned forward for a better look as Ray came around the corner. The place was called “Lerner’s Grocery” and there were three cop car in front of the building, lots flashing. 

“Shit!” Ray shouted as he suddenly swerved. Frank was nearly thrown from his seat and turned around to try and see what Ray had avoided once he got his bearings. Frank’s blood ran cold when he saw the body lying in the middle of the road, a human fucking body. He turned around, looked ahead, and saw a second body just lying in the middle of the road. 

“I hope someone picks those up,” Gerard said shakily as Ray pulled into the grocery store parking lot. Ray seemed shellshocked as he put the car into park. Ray stared at his hands for a few long seconds, gathering himself. 

“Okay,” Ray finally said. “Are we, uh… Are we ready?” He turned to look to them both, seeming honestly like he cared if they thought they should or not. “This… We haven’t even gone inside, and there’s two dead bodies. The cops are just sitting in their cars and I don’t think they’re gonna tell us to leave, which is probably a really bad sign. Guys, this…this seems really dangerous.”

“Don’t you see it?” Gerard asked, looking to the front of the sign. “G-R-S-Y. The spirit was tired and didn’t want to travel up to the “C.” She was saying “grocery.” This is where Ryan is.”

Frank looked to the sign too and groaned. “Fuck. You’re right.”

“There are two fucking dead bodies,” Ray reminded them. “And we’ve got two shovels and a rake.”

“I’m not taking the rake,” Frank said. 

“They have supplies in the store,” Gerard said helpfully. “We’ll find better weapons inside.”

“We need a game plan,” Frank said. He got out of the truck and reached into the back to pull out the two shovels. Gerard and Ray followed. “We’ll go in there and stick together. You can exorcise, Gee, and Ray probably can too, but I’m up shit creek.” Ray quickly reached back into his truck and pulled out a book that definitely wasn't a bible. “I’m gonna die if I’m not with you two.”

“Just stay with us, Frankie,” Gerard said as he took one of the shovels Frank offered. “We’ve got you.”

“Don’t exorcise if you can’t,” Frank told Gerard firmly. “I don’t fucking want you passing out on the floor. Regardless of what we’ve said, you’re a last resort sort of thing. Let Ray see if he can handle it before you start destroying your insides.”

Gerard bit his lip. “You care about me that much, Frankie?” he asked, voice dropping an octave. Frank couldn’t fucking speak with how dry his mouth had suddenly became. 

Behind Gerard, Ray rolled his eyes. “Sorry to interrupt, but we need to get moving,” Ray said. “I get that you two are fucking over the moon and shit, and Frank is such a dashing knight, but if you want to get started on this suicide mission, we need to move.”

Frank took in a deep breath and nodded before heading to into the grocery store. Still none of the cops tried to stop them. It was very disconcerting. The grocery store was empty and dark, all of the lights having sputtered out and died, but nothing else seemed wrong. He looked around, waiting for something to jump out at him. “Weird,” he said. “Nothing’s happening.”

Gerard nudged Frank with his elbow and nodded his head up towards the high ceiling, where he and Ray were staring.

Five bodies hung from the rafters, swaying from ropes around their necks with blood running down their faces.

Frank’s mouth fell open in shock. “Oh.”

“We need to split up,” Ray said. 

“How the fuck is that a good idea?!” Frank hissed, whirling around to look to him. “There are fucking bodies! We can’t fucking split up, I’ll fucking die!”

“You think we can cover all of this fucking ground in time to get the fuck out?” Ray shot back, also whispering. “We’re splitting up. That’s fucking final.” He reached to one of the many bins that was at the front of the store and handed Frank a crowbar, a weapon he was actually familiar with. “Scream if you need us. I’ll take aisles one through five, Gee takes, six through ten, and you take eleven through fourteen.” He broke away from Gerard and Frank before Frank could protest.

Frank held tightly to the crowbar, genuinely afraid. 

Gerard tugged on his hand, so Frank turned to him. Gerard ducked down and pressed their lips together, the kiss short and sweet, and yet somehow enough to slow Frank’s heartbeat and make him feel like he could do anything.

“Be brave,” Gerard told him. “You can do this.”

Fuck yeah Frank could do this. He tightened his grip with more confidence and strode to his aisles, knowing Gerard was right. It was just some store and Ryan needed him. He’d been kissed by the boy he loved and now he was going to save his friend.

But the darkness was encroaching, and Frank was painfully aware of how alone he was. The bodies hanging from the ceiling hadn’t quite hit him yet. The confidence of only a few seconds ago quickly died as he crept down the first aisle and felt like there were eyes watching him from atop the shelves. He crouched low to the ground and crept along the wall of a shelf. There was product all over the floor, but nothing looked missing. The store looking more destroyed than ransacked. 

Footsteps sounded behind him and Frank whirled around, but saw no one. His heart began to pound out of his chest. His hands were sweaty and his grip on the crowbar was weak by now. He went on to the next aisle, aisle twelve, and the intercom clicked on.

_“Frank Iero to aisle thirteen please, Frank Iero to aisle thirteen.”_

That was Ryan. 

Ryan was speaking over the intercom, but something sounded wrong. His voice sounded all over the place, like a bad impression of the Joker. He didn’t sound as controlled as Ryan always did when he spoke. He almost sounded like he was taunting Frank.

Aisle thirteen was the next one, and Frank definitely didn’t want to go. But he had to find Ryan, didn’t he? It was why he was fucking here. He tried to tighten his grip, but again, sweaty. Frank shuddered and kept going. He crept around the corner and saw Ryan waiting for him, with his hand down a man’s throat.

“Oh fuck,” escaped Frank before he could do anything. He dropped the crowbar and fell to the ground as Ryan looked up at him with a gentle smile and pulled the man’s fucking tongue out slowly, like a magician pulling flowers from his sleeve.

“He’s so warm,” Ryan literally moaned as he continued to pull more and more from the man’s mouth. “A blasphemer in life, and even in death, still his tongue serves a purpose.” Frank shuddered in horror as he recognized the man to be Father North. Frank felt like throwing up as he listened to the wet sound of his innards being pulled out from his mouth.

Ryan started to giggle. He pulled a dinner knife from the waistband of his jeans and suddenly brought the blade down, severing the trail of flesh from Father North. Ryan scrambled forward, nearly slipping on the blood. He ended up falling to his knees, but fucking crawled towards Frank, holding the long line of tongue and esophagus and innards.

“You gotta taste it, Frankie,” Ryan babbled, sounding absolutely insane. Frank tried to crawl away, but his back hit a wall too soon and he couldn’t make himself stand against the terror lacing in his chest. “You have to taste it,” Ryan continued, crawling into Frank’s lap and shoving the warm, wet flesh against Frank’s lips. “Taste it, taste it, taste it,” Ryan gasped. “It tastes like heaven and it tastes like hell. Don’t you want to be free like me?”

Frank opened his mouth to tell Ryan to get away, but Ryan pushed the flesh into Frank’s mouth. Frank gagged at the putrid smell of warm human and blood slid down his throat without his consent. Frank sobbed around the flesh and tried to turn his head away, to escape the taste, but he couldn’t escape. 

Ryan moaned in Frank’s lap and surged forward, pressing his mouth to the other side of the flesh in Frank’s mouth, touching their lips and pushing more of the organs into Frank with his tongue. Ryan pressed his hips to Frank’s thigh, grinding against him with breathy sounds to the flesh.

Frank’s eyes rolled into the back of his head as Ryan slid his hands up the front of Frank’s shirt and continued to kiss him through the mess of flesh and this was it. 

This was where Frank would lose his sanity. 

“You taste better than sin,” not-Ryan gasped, finally fucking crazy enough to make Frank realize that this was not Ryan. This was not his friend. This was a monster wearing Ryan like a costume and making him do things that would haunt them both for the rest of their life. He could feel Ryan’s tongue against his lips and trembled. He tried to push not-Ryan away again, but not-Ryan only grabbed at the front of Frank’s pants and squeezed. Frank cried out against the guts and nearly threw up again, his stomach turned over and roiling. 

Not-Ryan laughed against him. “I’m going to make you mine,” he told Frank in a low voice. “I’m going to leave you lying awake for the rest of your life in remembrance of me.”

A hand appeared and grabbed a fistful of not-Ryan’s hair, pulling him back and throwing him to the floor. Not-Ryan yelped in offense and turned to sit back up, but was frozen in place, facing down the rosary Ray held in front of his nose. “Defiler,” not-Ryan hissed in accusation. “The Defiler has come to dear Frankie’s rescue.” Not-Ryan laughed. “You can do nothing to save him. He’s tasted the blood of his own kind. It’s only a matter of time before he consumes you…”

“Your words fall on deaf ears, demon,” Ray said way too calmly. Frank bent over on the floor and spat up all the blood he could, holding his stomach and trying not to make too much noise so he wouldn’t interrupt. Gerard fell to his side and pulled Frank into his arms. It helped a little. The cold was vein deep and suffocating and he couldn’t breathe past the way ice was spreading through his lungs. 

Frank looked up at Gerard and reached up to hold onto his neck, then pulled him down to kiss him, because he needed something to cover up the taste of blood in his mouth. He felt Gerard try to pull away from the horrible, horrible taste, but couldn’t let him go. He couldn’t live with the blood in his mouth. He couldn’t live with the organs in his mouth and down his throat. He would taste this for the rest of his life. “I’m sorry,” he gasped against Gerard’s lips, and he genuinely was sorry. “I’m so fucking sorry.” Gerard stopped struggling and just let Frank do what he needed. Frank pulled away with the blood smeared across their mouths like lipstick. 

“I come in the name of the lord,” Ray said calmly, walking forward while not-Ryan crawled away, staring up at Ray like he was a god to be feared, but Ryan was still smiling. “You inhabit a body that is not your own. I command you to leave this boy and go back to the pit you came from.”

“The Defiler gives no order that I must follow,” not-Ryan hissed. “I am Magnu —I don’t have to listen to you! I am beyond you! A mere mortal holds no power of me! You make me laugh with your weakness!”

 _Magnu,_ the fucking monster, licked his lips up at Ray and grinned again. “I don’t have to listen to you,” it repeated. I don’t have to listen to a word! I am beyond you, beyond your understanding. I am your master. I am controller of the inherent evil of humanity! Look what I have made your friend do!” Magnu pointed to Father North’s mangled corpse. “I will do the same to the bodies of everyone you love and then you! All of you will tremble beneath us and our power! Even your precious god cannot save you!”

“Exorcizamus te,” Ray began calmly, doing way better with the pronunciations than Frank had. “Omnis immunde spiritus, omni satanica potestas, omens incursio infernalis adversarii.”

Magnu froze and stared up at Ray in terror. “Y-you can’t…the Defiler is more of a sinner than the spawn I just killed!”

“Omnis legio, omnis congregatio et secta diabolica, in nomini et virtute Domini nostri Jesu Christi, eradicare et effugare e De Ecclesia, ab animabus ad imaginem Dei conditos ac pretiosi divini Agni sanguini redemptis.”

As Magnu began to tremble, listening in rapt attention to Ray’s command, the smile slowly died. “If you can control your sin, you can control the world,” it told Ray before its eyes rolled into the back of its head and the grocery store went pitch black. This time, the cold was nothing compared to what Frank had already felt.

That was too easy.

Ryan dropped to the linoleum floor, twitching violently like a kid experiencing convulsions. Frank wanted to go help him, wanted to make sure Ryan was okay, but all he could see was Ryan’s face in his own with the warn gush of innards filling his mouth. The taste of blood remained and always would.

“Go help him,” Frank choked out. “Please. I-I can’t, I just…go make sure he’s okay.”

Gerard looked him over like he had x-ray vision, before he nodded and slid from Frank’s side and went to Ryan. He tried to lift Ryan up, but Ryan was dead weight. “Ray, help me,” Gerard called out. “We, we gotta get him out of the back, right? There are cops out front. What if they try to arrest him?”

Ray was staring at Father North, looking like he was asleep on his feet.

“Ray!” Gerard cried out, startling Ray from his stupor. “I-I know this is hard,” Gerard began, meeting Ray’s hollow gaze. “I know you’re scared and I know it hurts. You did so fucking well with the exorcism, Ray, you did so very well. But we’re not done yet. We need to get everyone out of here and regroup. We need to gather ourselves and figure out what to do next.”

Ray looked away from Gerard and looked back to Father North on the floor.

“Fuck, Ray,” Gerard pleaded. “We can’t fucking do this, okay? We can’t fucking wait for people to show up and snap us out of this! Ryan can’t move and Frank is almost as bad. I need you to wake up and help me get them both out of here before we get into trouble. You know we don’t deserve to be in trouble. Ryan didn’t do this.”

Ray nodded slowly. “Ryan didn’t do this,” he repeated. Frank honestly was having trouble agreeing. The blood was making it hard to think. 

“Help me get Ryan and Frank out of here,” Gerard begged. “Please.”

Ray shuddered and forced himself to move. He stopped down on his knees and lifted Ryan up in his arms with little effort. Ryan kept convulsing and Frank couldn’t imagine the psychological strain he had been through while being possessed. All possessions had only been a single murder or less than that. Ryan had killed fucking six people. A monster had controlled his hands and killed six people, probably with his bare fucking hands, and now Ryan was having a seizure. Frank wasn’t sure how Ryan would recover from this. 

“Let’s get moving,” Gerard said, going to Frank and trying to help him get to his feet. Frank struggled a little, but forced himself to stand regardless of the pain. He wasn’t sure why his whole body hurt — he hadn’t been attacked or hit once. But he was inexplicably in pain and couldn’t ignore it. “Need me to help you take a shower later?” Gerard asked in the form of a weak joke. 

“Fuck yes,” Frank replied. “Please. I-I know it’s fucking dumb, but…” He couldn’t stand the idea of shadows in his peripherals. It was going to be a rough night.

“Through the butcher,” Ray told them as he carried Ryan in the direction of the tiny butcher that was in the back of the store. “They’ve got the exit. It’ll set off an alarm, but who fucking cares, right? All the electricity is out. Maybe it won’t even go off.”

The alarm didn’t go off even though there was a sign that advertised it would. “We have to walk,” Gerard said. “Unless you think we can get to your truck?”

“I hope the cops didn’t impound it,” Ray sighed as he readjusted his hold on Ryan to better carry him the long distance. Ray looked down at Ryan, his features softening. “I’m praying Ryan doesn’t remember any of it,” Ray told them as they started their long trek home through the woods so no one would see them and the blood that covered their bodies. “I’m not having a hard time knowing it wasn’t Ryan because it really fucking wasn’t. But the idea that he knows what it feels like to sink his hands into someone’s stomach and pull out their intestines. Ryan doesn’t deserve to have that memory.”

“Ryan will be fine,” Gerard tried to say confidently. He had Frank’s arm over his shoulder and was carrying a good amount go Frank’s weight. “I, uh…I’m ashamed to admit that I’m going to have a problem with the memory too. Just, the bodies from the ceiling. And the way Frank looked. So fucking scared…”

“I’m not gonna sleep for days,” Frank admitted. “Not sure how I’m still in one piece. Fuck. This isn’t gonna hit me until tonight. When I’m lying awake in bed?” Frank smiled wryly. “I’m gonna be so fucking fucked up for days, guys. I used to watch horror movies, but they’re nothing like this. They never prepare you for the real thing.”

“They were never supposed to,” Ray sighed. 

Frank jumped when the sirens started, far off from town center, war sirens that warned of air raids that this town shouldn’t fucking have.

“Fuck,” Ray said. 

“The weather alarm?” Gerard frowned. “Why would they use that?”

“They’ve found the bodies in the grocery store,” Ray said. “The town’s gonna lock down. Curfews in effect.” Ray looked around with dread. “We need to get back. Whose house are we going to?”

“Let’s go to mine,” Frank said. “Ryan knows it and it actually has a locked door. We can’t go to Ray’s cause they know the truck is there and they’ll follow the plates to Ray’s house.”

“Fuck,” Ray repeated.

Gerard nodded. “Okay. Your house.”

. . .

Frank was feeling well enough to walk on his own when they reached his house. They got Ryan in through the front door and Frank saw his mother sitting in front of the TV showing only static while the radio droned on about staying indoors. Frank faltered when he noticed his mother was crying. He could see her shoulders shaking and wanted to reach out to her, comfort her, because regardless of how much he fucking hated what she’d done and what it meant, she had given birth to him and she was the most important woman in his life. 

“Fuck,” Frank said to himself. He took Ray and Gerard to his bedroom. “Lie Ryan down,” he told them. “The shower is to the left and at the end of the hall. Try to get some of the fucking blood off of Ryan, yeah? And use whatever clothes you want. I’m tiny, but I can do the laundry when I come back.”

“Where are you going?” Gerard asked.

“I need to talk to my mom,” Frank replied.

Gerard bit his lip, then reached out to take Frank’s hand and pull him in for a kiss to his cheek. Frank was stunned and looked past Gerard to Ray to see if he had any sort of explanation. Ray was clueless while Gerard was blushing and hiding his face. 

“We’ll talk later,” Gerard told Frank after a moment of silence. “I just…go help your mom. And maybe find out what’s happening.”

“Got it,” Frank choked out, his voice strangled. He looked between the three faces in front of him and tried to calm down so he wouldn’t have flushed cheeks when he spoke to his mom. Gerard was smiling shyly at him and the adrenaline was still coursing through Frank’s veins and making it impossible for him to not imagine more.

Frank ran a hand over his face and left the room.

He went to the living room and stood behind the couch. “…Mom?”

His mother whirled around and looked to Frank with such naked relief. Her mascara was running down her cheeks and one of her fake eyelashes was falling halfway off her eyelid. Her hair was a mess and the bible in her lap slipped off her knees and fell to the floor.

“Oh Frankie,” she sobbed, reaching over the couch to pull Frank into a tight hug. “I’m so sorry for bringing you here. I’m so sorry for doing this to you. To us. I’m so sorry for everything that’s happening.”

Frank couldn’t respond. He only hesitantly wrapped his arms around his mother’s waist and listened to the radio drone on.

_“With the two outside the store, the body count has come to seven people in total, including our pastor, Father North. The police have no leads, but report the last person to enter the store was a local boy whose name will remain undisclosed. The boy’s body was not found among the dead and the police name the boy as their lead suspect. All people are advised to stay inside and lock your doors, as the boy is still on the loose._

_“Turn out the lights and stay safe.”_

. . .

Nearly twenty four miles away, Mikey walked out of the hospital ER doors and looked up into the sun for the first time in three years.


	11. There’s No End In Sight, But You’ll Always Have Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> song rec: **"Oh Sinnerman" by Black Diamond Heavies**
> 
> betaed by _HalseysChemicalRomance_

“Frankie,” Gerard murmured as Frank came back into the room. Ryan was still out, a quivering mess on the floor that made Frank suspect that maybe he was awake and just going through something awful in his head. Ray was sitting on the floor off to the side, sorting through bandaids and antiseptic like he needed something to do. Frank would offer himself up for Ray to check over injuries once Gerard had said what he needed to say here. His mind was still fuzzy from the kiss and the way his mom had cried into his shoulder. He thought it was amazing that she hadn’t even noticed the blood covering his body. Maybe she thought it was normal at this point. Maybe she was waiting for hell to come meet them up here and figured Frank was just a few steps ahead of the curve.

“Frank, you okay?” Gerard asked softly, reaching out to Frank’s face. Frank flinched away, and who could fucking blame him? Gerard obviously didn’t, because he only smiled tiredly and continued to reach out, heading lower, taking Frank’s hand. “It’s okay if you’re not okay,” he told Frank. “Wanna take that shower now? Then Ray can fix you up.”

“What about Ryan?” Frank asked. “He’s pretty fucked up right now.”

“Ryan can’t really bathe himself when he’s unconscious,” Gerard told Frank. “And I’m not very keen on doing anything without his consent right now. I know he’s dirty and stuff, but he just had a demon take his body for a ride. Things happening on his terms is a lot more important that getting him clean right now.”

“What if he’s hurt and someone else’s blood ends up in the wounds and he’s got AIDs?” Frank knew it was a stretch, but he didn’t want anything to happen to Ryan regardless of the fear he was harboring in his chest at just the sight of Ryan’s face. “We can’t let him get sick, Gee,” he told Gerard with a sigh. “Doesn’t matter what he’s done, he doesn’t deserve that kind of sickness.”

Gerard faltered. “You think this was his fault?”

Frank looked down. “…They were his hands.”

“Wasn’t his soul,” Ray said. “Wasn’t his mind.” Ray stood and turned to face Frank. “What I saw when I came to him…I can’t understand how messed up your insides feel right now, Frank. And I know you feel cold. But I’m going to say that you know Ryan better than anyone in this fucking town, and by knowing him, you know that wasn’t him. Ryan cares about you. He probably feels slightly indebted to you, especially after you gave him a place to stay when his world crashed down around him. He would never do that to you.”

Frank couldn’t look at anyone. He knew they were right. But at the same time… “I can’t…the way he touched me…”

“No one’s blaming you for being freaked out for however long you need,” Ray told him patiently, coming forward and putting a slow and careful hand on Frank’s shoulder. The cold bled away where Gerard and Ray were touching him. He relaxed minutely and sniffled, but refused to cry.

Gerard squeezed his hand. “Let’s get you cleaned up, Frankie,” he told Frank softly, pulling him gently into the hall and down to the bathroom. His mother was still sitting in front of the TV, but Frank was pretty sure she wasn’t crying anymore. That was oddly relieving. Gerard gently pushed him into the bathroom and tugged at the bottom of Frank’s shirt. “Get this off, Frankie, it’s filthy. Do you even wanna try to wash it? Cause I think you should just throw it out.”

Frank just nodded and pulled off his shirt. But once it was off and on the floor, he became hyperaware of Gerard’s eyes on his naked, bloody torso (because the blood had gone through his shirt, jesus christ), and the kiss they had shared. Frank watched Gerard warily from under his bangs. “You wanted to talk?” he asked guardedly. 

Gerard bit his lip. “I mean, yeah, but I’m not sure it’s such a good time anymore. You’re all messed up, Ray’s dealing with Father North being gone, Ryan’s lying on the bed. It just doesn’t seem tactful. It doesn’t seem like the right time to spring this sort of thing on you.”

“I was nearly raped by my best friend tonight and I tasted the intestines of another human being,” Frank told him with such an even tone that it freaked even himself out. “I’m going to die, Gerard, and it’s probably gonna be quick and bloody and way too soon for me to be okay about it. If you’ve got something to tell me, you’ve got to tell me now. Or else, it’ll end up being too late.”

Gerard met Frank’s gaze with sad eyes. “I don’t want this moment to be associated with fear, heartbreak, or trauma, Frankie,” he murmured. He reached down to hold Frank’s hands again, looking down between their bodies. Frank already had a pretty good hunch to what Gerard wanted to talk about. “I just really like you, Frankie,” Gerard sighed. “And I think you like me too. And I know everything is really messed up right now, and I know I kinda left you hanging the other day, but when you kissed me in the store… everything was so hellish, but even then, kissing you helped make me feel better. Once I got past the blood, that is.” Gerard pulled a crooked grin. “Kissing you helped me not feel like shit over how Ryan was possessed and six people were dead. And you’re a boy, so the fact that you can bring me that kind of peace is a big fucking deal to me.”

“So what do you want?” Frank asked. He felt like he didn’t need to explain why he had kissed Gerard. He would have kissed Ray just to get rid of the taste if it had been the older man beside him instead of Gerard.

“I wanna…go gay for you. Or bisexual. I want to try to have a relationship with you.” Gerard shrugged. “It’s bad timing, but it’s starting to look like domestic and nice stuff for the rest of my life is gonna be bad timing, so I wanted to tell you as soon as possible. You could say yes or no and I could move on unhappily or…” Gerard shrugged. “Not.”

Frank sighed. “It’s kinda all fucked, you know? I mean, if you and I were something, when would we have time to date? Be boyfriends or whatever? It’s not like we’re normal teenagers going to high school anymore. We deal with a lot more shit. I mean, jesus, I’m probably gonna drop out of high school. When will I have time to date?”

Gerard shrugged. “The moments in between. Like what we had in the parking lot. And the time between us getting here and you talking to your mom. Lying together at night. When we wake up in the morning and have breakfast and if we’re lucky enough to get to the end of the day. When we’re trying to get to where we need to be.” Gerard smiled at the joined hands. “I think you could be someone really, really important to me, Frankie. And I don’t want to miss out on having that just because we might not be able to go on dates and shit.”

Frank had a feeling that Gerard was right. He looked up and gnawed on his lower lip. “Wanna get that shirt off too? Can’t help me shower when you’re fully clothed. That’s just asking me to mess up your shirt.”

Gerard blushed faintly. “I-I mean… Is that a yes?”

Frank nodded and leaned in to hesitantly place a kiss to Gerard’s cheek. “You’re right. We can try. Hell, we should try. It’s important to keep a hold of ourselves through all of this, if only to prove that the demons can’t that this aspect of humanity from us.”

“Yeah,” Gerard agreed with a grin. “They can’t take this from us.”

Frank smiled back wryly. “So, uh…boyfriends?”

“Something like that,” Gerard giggled. “Thanks for giving me a chance.”

“Yeah,” was all Frank could say past the tightness in his chest. He looked over Gerard as Gee pulled off his shirt and grinned a little. Gerard had love handles and a tummy and it was honestly really fucking cute on him. Frank had always know Gerard was soft on all the right edges. 

“Stop staring,” Gerard said with a pouted, wrapping his arms around his middle and hiding his body from view. Frank just snorted and stepped out of his jeans, turning on the shower in his boxers. “Should I, uh…pants?”

“Whatever you want,” Frank said. “I honestly assumed you’d stand outside or something and make sure I don’t fall and break my head open.” When he looked to Gerard, he saw he looked simultaneously relieved and disappointed. “We literally just decided to be something,” Frank said. “We’re not gonna start fucking right off the bat. Especially since I had Father North’s blood in my mouth. Who knows what diseases he had.”

“He was a priest, Frankie,” Gerard giggled as he squeezed out of his own jeans, wiggling his hips. Frank stared more, deciding he definitely had the right to check out his boyfriend. He couldn’t say he wasn’t attracted to Gerard, but he hadn’t really looked at the other guy from a sexual sort of standpoint. 

Gerard had a really cute butt, and Frank was pleased.

He stepped into the shower in his boxers for Gerard’s comfort and washed the blood from his skin, feeling a little more human as the water ran red.

. . .

The town wasn’t freaked out, it was just silent. There was no looting and no one bugging out, no sirens and no cars lining the streets, mid-evacuation. The town was just silent as the dead. No one walked out of their homes. School was cancelled and the church didn’t have a pastor anyways.

Frank couldn’t sleep beside Ryan that night, so Gerard slept between them and Ray slept at their feet, all four of them bunched together like sardines in a can, the blanket through over their bodies and providing less heat than their own bodies. Frank woke up with his stomach and arm wedged into Gerard’s rib cage with his leg through over Ray’s chest. He could see Ryan’s head laid across Gerard’s shoulder and was happy to see that, because it meant Ryan had moved sometime during the night. Ryan wasn’t shaking anymore, either. Frank knew he’d be awake soon. He dreaded the way Ryan would look at him. Would look at himself. He hoped beyond hope that Ray’s idea would become a reality and that Ryan wouldn’t remember a goddamn thing.

The world outside, though, was completely silent. Normally Frank would hear a truck or two driving by, and town square always played one of those chimes every hour, on the hour. But his clock changed from five fifty-nine to six AM, and there was nothing. The sirens from yesterday rang in his ears. He found himself curling closer to Gerard, enjoying the full body warmth that the other boy spread through him. He probably would’ve purred if he were a cat.

Ray’s hair started to tickle his feet and Frank squirmed, trying to get away from the ticklish sensation. Ray snorted and swatted at Frank’s feet. Frank stilled and watched Ray, who's settled back down. Frank was happy to let him sleep. 

He felt a shudder run through the mattress and looked across Gerard to watch Ryan slowly wake up. Ryan’s eyes snapped open like electrocution and his body became as stiff as stone lightening fast. A dry sob slipped past his lips and Frank immediately reached across Gerard, laying a hand on Ryan’s chest to steady him. Ryan’s head snapped to the right, and the second he met eyes with Frank, he started crying. 

Frank’s heart twisted in his chest and he knew that he had been wrong to be afraid of Ryan. Those hands had done things to Frank that he didn’t want to remember, but he knew Ryan would sooner sever those hands from his own body than use them to hurt Frank. Frank crawled over Gerard with little grace and squirmed in between Gerard and Ryan, pulling Ryan into his chest. Ryan tried to pull back, fighting against Frank, but Frank was stronger than Ryan when Ryan was crying and refused to be deterred. 

“I’m so sorry,” Ryan cried. “I’m so sorry.”

“I know you are,” Frank told him, running his fingers through Frank’s hair once Ryan stopped fighting him. “It wasn’t you. It’s all gonna be okay.”

“I had his heart in my hands,” Ryan sobbed. “I killed them all. I watched the life leave their eyes and the thing inside me was laughing. I was the last thing they saw before they died a-and I fucking laughed at them.”

“It wasn’t you,” Frank repeated. “That’s what we told Josh and that’s what we’re all gonna tell you. None of us blame you.”

“Oh god,” Ryan whimpered. “I killed them all. I killed them. I’m a murderer. I can’t show my face ever again.”

Frank winced and decided against mentioning that all witnesses were actually dead, according to that broadcast. The only two people who had escaped the grocery store had been hit by cop cars and killed, which was oddly convenient. The authorities said they knew who had done it, but hadn’t named Ryan. Maybe they had just been bullshitting to keep people from freaking out over an unnamed killer on the loose. “You’re safe here, Ry,” Frank told him softly. “You’re gonna just heal up and rest and then we’ll figure out what to do.”

“I’m so sorry,” Ryan repeated, crying harder than Frank had ever seen another boy cry. “I-I touched you and made you eat it a-a-and I’m sorry.”

Frank almost flinched, but he knew that wouldn’t help Ryan feel any better. So he just said, “I forgive you,” and was happy to realize that that was the truth. “I do, Ryan. I forgive you for what happened.”

Ryan just cried harder and hid between Frank’s shoulder and the pillow. Frank felt Gerard shift behind him, and then an arm was slung over Frank’s side, resting across Ryan. Gerard let out a sleep sound into Frank’s ear and Frank bit his lip. “It’s all good, Ry,” Gerard mumbled. “Let it out.” Gerard started to rub Ryan’s back. “Just let it all out. We’ll get some food into you soon and then a shower and then you’ll feel a lot better.”

“S-s-sorry about your sheets, F-Frankie,” Ryan whimpered, sounding so pitiful that Frank couldn’t help but laugh a little. 

“I don’t mind,” he said. “I’ve had these sheets since I was fucking thirteen. They’ve seen worse.”

“Oh fuck,” Ray groaned from the foot of the bed. “I’m up. I’m up.” He started sitting up on his forearms. “Fuck this bed, it’s got fucking pre-teen Iero jizz on it. Fucking warn a guy before they spend the night on this bed, would ya?” Frank shoved his foot into Ray’s face in retaliation. Ray tried to bite his toes and Frank kicked out. Ryan let out this wheeze of a laugh that made Frank’s chest loosen a little.

“What do you feel like eating?” Gerard asked Ryan, still rubbing his back. “Want some toast? Maybe with jam and butter? Or I could try to make bacon.”

“This is a house of vegetarians,” Frank snorted. “We don’t have bacon.”

“What kind of monster are you?” Ray asked with a snort.

“Fuck you, Toro,” Frank replied lamely.

“Fuck you too, Jizz-Face Mc’Gee.”

Gerard giggled like a psycho and kissed Frank’s cheek. “That’s a good name,” he murmured into Frank’s ear, warm breath ghosting Frank’s skin. “Bear that title with honor.”

“Fuck you both,” Frank hummed. He was warm and on some good painkillers from the night before with his close friends, safe and in soft sheets. The world outside was utterly silent, so it felt like it was universes away from the safe room they were all inhabiting. Gerard was pressed against his back and Ryan wasn’t crying so hard that he was shaking. Even Ray wasn’t acting like he had a stick up his ass per usual. Frank was waiting for things to be shitty, knew that they would remember the deaths of yesterday, but for now, he’d take this.

“We’re not vegan,” he told them. “We’ve got eggs and stuff. Pancake mix and waffles and fruit. You don’t need bacon to have a breakfast, you fuckers. I can make fucking awesome scrambled eggs. I put salt in them and stuff. And cream cheese. You have no idea how good the eggs I make are. But you’re gonna fucking find out.”

He suddenly shot up and crawled out of bed. Ryan let out this whine, but Gerard quickly took Ryan into his chest with little hushing noises, stilling rubbing Ryan’s back. Ryan curled closer into him and Frank felt a little jealous. Then Ray pinched Frank’s stomach hard enough to bruise and Frank yelped, kicking out again, and falling out of the bed. “Breakfast,” he said, mostly to himself. “Give me twenty.”

. . .

Ten minutes later, Frank had breakfast on the table. His mother was still asleep. She’d always slept pretty hard after crying as hard as she had been. Frank was glad she was getting rest. It gave him plenty of room to make all the eggs and pear he had sliced and the pancakes and waffles (because Ray apparently liked both). He had glasses of orange juice and apple juice and plates and silverware. It was funny — he had never cared about this sort of thing back with James and Bob. Sure, they ate and shit, but Frank hadn’t put so much effort into a meal for them. He felt like he was throwing some special party and not just the food they very much needed after a terrible night. 

Frank called them all to breakfast, and after a lot of commotion, he looked up to see Ray literally carrying Ryan into the room. Ryan’s face was red and tear stained and he didn’t smile, even looked like he didn’t want to be in the kitchen, about to eat. Frank was sure he didn’t want to eat, but they’d make him. He hadn’t eaten since the church, which was two days ago. Ryan needed something in his stomach.

“Set him down,” Frank prompted gently, pulling out the chair. They had Ryan wrapped up in a blanket. Frank made a plate for him. Ryan just kinda stared at it and looked like he was pouting, but there was a sort of burden in his eyes that went beyond a simple tantrum. Gerard sat beside him at the table and nudged the fork in Ryan’s direction.

“C’mon, Ry,” he prodded gently. “Gotta get your strength up. Things are gonna get hairy pretty quickly and we need you to be on your A-game, okay? We can’t do this without our impressive captain leading us along.” 

“Surprised you want me here at all,” Ryan mumbled, staring at the food in front of him. Frank was sure he was hungry. He wished Ryan wouldn’t be so stubborn. “Surprised you trust me in the same room as you. Surprised I’m still alive.” Ryan bit his lip before dropping the next bombshell. “Surprised you guys didn’t kill me.”

“Fuck that, Ryan,” Ray said. “Fuck that. We’re not gonna hurt you. No matter what fucking happens, okay? We’re already starting to have to kill our friends. We’re not killing each other on top of that. Got it?” He looked between all three of them pointedly. “ _Got it?_ ”

Frank shook his head. “I’d sooner let you guys kill me than kill any of you.”

“Same,” Gerard echoed. 

Ryan took his fork and picked at the food. “I’m sorry.”

“We know you are,” Frank said. “And we know you’re gonna be saying that a lot these next couple days. Weeks, maybe. But we’re gonna get you well and thoroughly past this guilt, okay? We didn’t blame Josh. We’re not gonna blame you. We’re not gonna let you blame yourself, either, alright? Not for much longer.”

Ryan stared at them all, then started to eat his pancakes, chewing slowly. 

Gerard grinned widely and sat back in his seat, happy as a clam. Ray and Frank were just relieved Ryan was eating without having to force the food down his throat.

. . .

“Thanks for walking me home, Frankie,” Gerard said with a soft smile. The road was utterly empty and Frank still couldn’t hear a sound. It felt wrong to be outside, but Gerard had wanted to change and check on his mother. Ray was hanging back with Ryan, keeping an eye on him. Gerard and Frank were walking side by side down the road, their fingers entangled. It didn’t feel weird or awkward like Frank had thought it would. Holding hands with Gerard felt nice. Gerard’s hand was giving him that same warmth that Frank was becoming dependent on and their arms swung gracefully between their bodies.

The road was, again, empty, but it wasn’t raining. The walk was pleasant with Gerard beside him. He felt like he was walking Gerard home from the date they would never really be able to have and that they would kiss on the doorstep and makes plans for the next one. Frank found himself looking forward to a kiss that may not even happen. But he just wanted to kiss Gerard. He felt normal when their lips touched.

“Am I allowed to kiss you at the door?” Frank asked. “I mean, what are the rules to all of this?”

Gerard frowned. “Rules?”

“To you and me,” Frank clarified. “Frank and Gee, you know? We’re not some one hit wonder, right? You meant what you said. You want me and I want you, and I think we should definitely do something with that and set some ground rules. Not, like, actual ground rules. But you’ve never been with another guy before, and I’ve been with tons of guys.” That was a lie. “… Actually, I haven’t,” Frank admitted. “I’ve been with one. Technically two, but I didn’t fuck the first one.”

Gerard giggled into his fingers and squeezed Frank’s hand. “You wanna keep me safe, Frankie?”

“I wanna make sure you don’t agree to shit you don’t understand,” Frank corrected. “Gay sex is a whole new beast, man. There’s a lot of shit that can go wrong, like bleeding and shit. That can happen with a girl, yeah, but if you do it right the first time, you won’t ever hurt her. But with guys, there’s no lubricant. I could hurt you. Also, there’s the importance of condoms and shit. And then there’s the whole thing about you not knowing how to handle a dick. I don’t want you bending mine in half.”

“Who’d you fuck?” Gerard asked nonchalantly.

“My friend James,” Frank replied. “He, uh…he was my first.” Frank cleared his throat and looked away from Frank. “My actual first. Never gone all the way with a girl before.” He bit his lip. “Have you?”

“I’m not a virgin, Frankie,” Gerard told Frank with a slight smirk. “I know what I’m doing.”

Frank didn’t know what to think of that. He wasn’t sure if it was a comfort to know that Gerard wasn’t totally in the dark, or if he was a little put off that Gerard was apparently such a sex fiend that he felt the need to smirk like that. He could be lying, but Frank didn’t think Gerard would lie about this. 

Gerard squeezed Frank’s hand again. “It’s all been nothing,” he promised. “Honestly? Three of them were library hookups. Lonely girls meeting a lonely guy while neither of them can bring their noses out of the books. I’m not some casanova, I just…I was alone. And so were the girls I was with. They didn’t want anything from me more than what I could give them and I didn’t care either. So it didn’t mean anything.”

That didn’t make Frank feel much better and he was ashamed to admit it. He didn’t have a right to say Gerard couldn’t have more sexual experience than Frank. Frank had slept with a girl before and two guys, that was three to five. Frank was actually the lesser in this, for all of his talk. Gerard could probably give him fucking tips, jesus. Or just give him the tip.

 

“I’m on top,” Frank said firmly. “I don’t fucking care what you think, I-I know what to do. You’ve never been with a guy. I don’t want us getting fucking hurt during something that should be as not fucking painful as possible, okay?”

Gerard smiled sadly and squeezed Frank’s hand for a third time. “Hey. You’re the boss.”

“I don’t want to be the boss,” Frank said petulantly. “I want to be, like…your boyfriend. And we need rules and stuff. Cause this is important. If you and I break up over something dumb, how am I supposed fight a demon with you there? It could ruin everything. We could get people killed, you know. If we’re not working at one hundred percent, we’re gonna get hurt and we’re gonna get others hurt. We can’t take this lightly.”

“Can’t we?” Gerard asked sadly. “I’d like to take something lightly. Just this one. While we still can. This is gonna be the only source of relaxation you and I will have for a very long time, Frankie, if we keep doing this. We can’t throw away this chance at happiness. You are, like a source of happiness for me. I want this to be what it is for me. I don’t want to burden it with these things. These what ifs and rules.” Gerard smiled sadly down at Frank as they walked. “I don’t want to mess up something like this by overthinking it.”

“It’s important to think about things,” Frank insisted. “We can’t just run into this with our eyes closed.”

“Yes we can,” Gerard told him. “Going blind is sometimes the best way to avoid bad things. They can’t hurt us if we can’t see them, right? Ignorance is bliss.”

“That’s got to be the dumbest thing you’ve ever said,” Frank sighed. They reached Gerard’s house, and it was just as quiet as the rest of the town. Frank looked around almost warily. “It’s so quiet, Gee,” he said. “Fuck, I mean…I’ve heard of quiet, small towns, but this is crazy. And after yesterday, it’s like the world has just gone into a coma of its own.”

“It won’t be like this for long,” Gerard assured him. “The town will wake up. It always does.”

Frank grimaced and then Gerard’s front door burst open, revealing Gerard’s Mom, who was smiling wide with tear running down her face. Frank was a little surprised when Gerard didn’t pull his hand out of Frank’s. He supposed that was a good enough answer to the question of whether or not Gerard wanted to come out.

“Gerard!” she cried out, her yell a stark difference to the silence surrounding them. “Gerard! Baby, you’ll never guess who’s come home!” She grabbed Gerard by the arm and yanked him inside, with Frank following him by connection. Inside, the house was warm and lit up in a way Frank had never seen before. Even Gerard was looking around with an air of disconnect, like he didn’t recognize his own home as quickly as he should have. “He’s here, Gerard, oh my god, my baby’s home!” She was gushing, pulling them into the kitchen.

“Who’s here, Mom?” Gerard asked, watching her with concern. 

Then they got into the living room and a figure stood up from the couch. Frank’s eyes went wide, like he was looking at someone who had come back from the dead. He had only ever seen Mikey as a lifeless boy in a hospital bed, never someone moving and breathing without a tube down his throat. 

Gerard let out this choked noise beside him and dropped Frank’s hand. It only took a few seconds of staring before Gerard shrieked and jumped in place twice before launching himself at his brother and pulling Mikey into his arms. He was able to lift the thinner boy and spun around in a circle, laughing the whole time, and even crying a little. Mikey was smiling too, albeit tiredly, but held to his brother with the same white-knuckle grip that Gerard had around Mikey’s back. Gerard’s Mom came in and joined them in the hug, wrapping her two boys up in her arms for the first time in three years.

Frank had never seen anything this emotionally positive in his life.

“Oh my god, Mikey,” Gerard choked out, putting Mikey down to hold his face in his hands. “You’re awake. You’re awake! I always knew you would wake up. Always knew you would come home.” He leaned in and smacked huge, wet kisses all over Mikey’s face.

Mikey snorted but kept smiling, trying to avoid Gerard’s wet lips. “Gee, stop it,” Mikey said in a lower voice than Frank had imagine for him. Mikey kept trying to pull his face away, but his body sunk inwards towards his brother, like he was seeking out the heat that the other body gave him. Mikey eventually just turned his head entirely and hid his face in Gerard’s neck, standing and relaxing there, quietly content. Frank bit his lip and felt like he had to duck out and away, because this was too intimate for him to be witnessing. It had to be.

But then Gerard’s hand was reaching out to him. “Mikey, Mikey!” Gerard gushed happily. “You’ve got to meet my boyfriend! This is Frankie, he’s from New Jersey, and he’s really awesome. Oh my gosh, oh my goodness, you’ve got to meet him, he’s just so amazing and brave and cute and he’s got that sarcasm thing you like, and he’s—“

“Standing right here,” Frank interrupted gently, taking Gerard’s still-offered hand. He stepped forward and smiled warily at Mikey, who stared back with the eyes of a predator, like he was trying to figure out if Frank was really a friend or not. There was something arrestingly familiar about the gaze, but it wasn’t from Mikey. It was from something behind Mikey’s eyes, deep inside a part of Mikey that Frank wasn’t sure he believed existed in humans in general.

Then Mikey blinked and the feeling was gone. Mikey nodded to Frank, sent him a weak hello, and that was it. Frank had expected that. Waking up after three years and discovering your brother’s boyfriend when you had fallen into the coma assuming your brother had been straight was a pretty alarming thing to realize. Frank couldn’t blame him for being so standoffish. 

“God, Mikey,” Gerard breathed, turning his attention back to his brother with the widest smile. “Fuck. You look so fucking amazing right now.” He held his brother’s face in his hands and sighed almost dreamily. “You’re beautiful when you’re awake. You just look so alive. So breathing. So living.”

“Gee, you’re not making sense,” Mikey said fondly.

“Wanna come to my room?” Gerard asked. “With Frankie? We’ve got a lot to fill you in on! Oh my gosh, Mom, can you maybe make dinner tonight for my friends? Ryan’s feeling really sick and Ray’s taking care of him right now.”

As Mrs. Way nodded and left for the kitchen, Mikey’s expression fell into something tentative. “Ray?” he repeated almost shakily. Frank was a little stunned by how well Mikey was functioning for a coma patient of three years. He wondered if they nurses had given him anything to help his body’s ability. “Is-” he licked his lips, “what’s Ray up to?”

Frank’s heart broke a little for both of them. Mikey obviously still felt something and Ray did too, but he was still so fucking in denial that he couldn’t even talk about Mikey. Now Mikey was awake and Ray was going to be hit in the skull with Mikey’s existence in just a few hours with no warning and no preparation. God, they were about to be fucked with so fucking badly. Frank felt sorry for them. He felt sorry for Ray. Ray was dealing with so fucking much, a dead priest and Ryan’s possession and his entire world being turned on its axis — now Mikey. Fucking Mikey. Frank wished he could help him somehow, but he knew it was hopeless. 

“Ray’s doing really well, Mikes,” Gerard told him with a soft smile. “He’s doing good. He’s a priest and he’s studying and he knows what he’s doing. He’s pretty happy.”

“He has a girlfriend,” Frank said because it was something that needed to be known. Mikey’s face fell, and fuck, Frank’s heart broke all over again, and this was just so fucking awful. Fuck. Frank was an asshole for dropping this on Mikey, but it had to be done. Mikey couldn’t go around thinking something, anything was possible with Ray. This needed to be cut at the root before it got any worse. Mikey didn’t deserve to feel this shit, and neither did Ray. He wished he could just erase their feelings for each other. It would make things easier.

“He, his girlfriend isn’t a definite thing,” Gerard said to try and soften the blow, but Frank shook his head. Gerard kept going. “It could happen, Mikey, you know it could. It almost did, right? He still feels something for you. You can’t give up on him.”

“It’s over, Gee,” Frank told mostly Gerard, because Mikey already looked defeated enough. This was like pulling teeth. Like pulling out intestines. Frank had an unprecedented full body shudder that was definitely visible with the way the brothers were looking at him. He shook his head again, because he didn’t want to explain it. “It’s over,” he repeated. “Don’t…we can’t afford a lot of false hope for any of us right now.”

Gerard just hung his head. Mikey shut the bedroom door and curled up on his brother’s mattress with a sad smile. “I’m glad to be awake,” Mikey said softly. “But I’m very tired. Is there…could you wake me up for dinner?”

“What?” Gerard almost paled. “I don’t want…can I stay with you?”

Mikey looked up at him from under his lashes, then nodded. “Like when we were kids?”

“Fucking absolutely, Mikes,” Gerard said firmly, dropping onto the bed and sliding under the covers. “Frankie, uh…c-could you bring Ryan and Ray here? For dinner? They need food and stuff.”

Frank watched them, and nodded slowly. “Sure.” He turned and left, a little hesitantly. “Uh…sure.” As he walked home, he realized Gerard had forgotten his most important rule about never going anywhere alone.

. . .

Frank opened his bedroom door and saw Ray sitting in the corner, reading one of Frank’s comic books, with Ryan still asleep on the bed. He cleared his throat and stepped from foot to foot almost awkwardly. Ray looked up and smiled a bit. “Where’s Gerard?”

“Back at his house,” Frank said, stiff as a board. “I, uh, there’s something important that you should know.”

“What’s that?” Ray asked with a gentle smile. “It’s important? That sounds—”

Ray cut himself off when Josh Dun swung himself into Frank’s room, red in the face and gasping for breath. His eyes were wild and almost afraid, and his gaze instantly snapped to Ryan on the bed.

“Him,” Josh gasped out. “Him. You have to get him out of here.”

“What?” Frank demanded, turning to face him with a deep frown. “What are you doing in my house?”

“They’re coming for him!” Josh cried out. “I heard the police! They were talking about coming here, for him! They’ve been looking for him everywhere, they found the burnt down house! They’re coming for Ryan, they want to arrest him!”

Ray dropped the comic and scooped Ryan up without hesitation. Ryan awoke with a startled noise, looking even more scared than Josh. Josh looked bewildered when Ryan initially thrashed against Ray’s touch. “What’s wrong with him?” Josh asked, reaching out for Ryan like it was an instinct to comfort Ryan. Oddly enough, when he rested his hand on Ryan’s arm, Ryan actually calmed down. His eyes dropped down to where Josh was touching his skin and went into a zen like state. But the state continued even when Josh’s hand dropped away, and suddenly Frank got the idea something was wrong when Ryan’s head rolled back, limp, as his eyes glazed over.

“Fuck,” Frank bit out.

“We don’t have time,” Ray said in a rush. “We have to run.”

“Where?” Frank asked. “They’ll go looking at every door!”

“My church,” Ray said. “We have to get to my church. I can hide him there.”

“Is consecrated ground very good after being possessed?” Frank asked earnestly.

“Ryan was possessed?” Josh asked shrilly, looking to Ryan again with horror on his face. He reached out and touched Ryan again, seeming to need the reassurance more. “Oh god…”

“We have to go,” Ray repeated slowly and firmly. “Do you fucking hear me? We. Have. To go.”

Josh nodded wildly and ran out of the room with Frank and Ray close behind. They went out the back door, into the woods. They ran through the trees and Frank kept going as slow as he could without feeling like he was lagging behind, in case Ray tripped and dropped Ryan. Sirens sounded loudly behind them and Frank’s heart hammered in his chest. He didn’t want Ryan to get caught.

“Fuck,” Ray panted once they were a good mile or three away from the house. “We gotta, we gotta slow down. I need to rest.”

They stopped and Ray lied Ryan down on the forest floor gently. Ryan was still staring into nothing, his hand twitching occasionally. “Is he okay?” Ray asked, pressing his hand to Ryan’s forehead like he was looking for a fever.

“After I was possessed, I’d fall out of my body,” Josh said. “I still do. It hasn’t been that long, anyways. If Ryan really was possessed, then…I think that’s what’s happening to him.” Josh kneeled on the forest floor beside Ryan and lifted Ryan’s head into his lap, petting his hair. Frank was again struck with the feeling that he was witnessing something that was too private for him to be seeing. Frank almost looked away. 

“It’s called disassociation,” Frank helpfully supplied. “An out of body experience. It, uh, it’s a disorder for some people. James had it.”

Josh nodded and gently tucked a strand of Ryan’s hair behind Ryan’s ear. He stared down at the boy, then started to lean over, like something out of a Disney movie.

Ryan suddenly snapped up, gulping down air like a drowning man and arching his back, scrabbling at the leaves and dirt beneath his body and ruining his fingernails. Ray dropped to his knees and held tightly to Ryan as Ryan started to thrash about, hitting out randomly at the air, rambling about the taste in his mouth.

“Blood, blood, blood,” Ryan babbled, fighting Ray’s grip, eyes rolling into the back of his head. “Tastes like heaven, tastes like hell, blood, blood, blood, tastes like the sin of my heart, tastes like sin, tastes like me, tastes like Brendon, tastes like—”

Josh took Ryan by the face and pulled him in to kiss him. 

Ryan’s eyes rolled back into the correct position and he watched Josh kiss him with droopy eyelids. Ray loosened his grip and Ryan pressed in the kiss with an exhausted slump, letting his eyes fall shut. 

Josh pulled away after a long moment and continued to pet Ryan’s hair as he had been before. “Did that taste any better?” he asked calmly. Ryan nodded with hazy eyes and slumped into Josh again.

“I just wanted to forget,” Ryan murmured. “Just want to forget.”

Josh nodded and continued to touch Ryan gently all over, these little soothing presses of his fingertips, probably something he learned from Tyler’s attempts to comfort him. 

“I want to forget what Brendon tastes like,” Ryan continued dully. “He’s always on my mind. Always on my tongue. When a body digests something, it’s put into the blood stream. I have Brendon in my veins. I’ll never be rid of him. Not unless I bleed myself dry.”

Frank’s eyes went wide in fear and Josh shook his head, cradling Ryan’s head to his chest. “Don’t do that,” he told Ryan just as calmly. “You don’t want to die, Ryan, I know you don’t. What happened to you is beyond horrible, and it seems like it’s only getting worse, but it’ll be okay. Just stay alive for me, okay? For your friends. They can’t fight these things without you.”

Ryan shook, a wave of trembles running through him like the ocean. He pressed his face into Josh’s shoulder. “Just wanna keep sleeping,” he whispered. 

“You can sleep once we get you to the church,” Ray told Ryan with a tight smile. “Just give us the time to get you there. It’ll be okay once we’re there. You can sleep in the back and everything. I’ll even let you drink the holy water, okay? If that helps you feel any more clean.”

Ryan let out this wet laugh. “Is it bizarre that I would love that?”

“Not at all,” Ray promised. “Let’s get you back on your feet, okay?” He looked to Josh, who gently nudged Ryan over. Ray lifted Ryan and stood on steady feet. He nodded to Frank and Josh to show he was ready. “Let’s get him somewhere safe.”


	12. Barbitone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> betaed by _HalseysChemicalRomance_
> 
> Song Rec: **"Run or Hide" by Run River North**

Ryan passed out again on the bed in the back of the office in the back of the church and Frank was honestly very surprised that Ryan could step past the threshold with Josh. He thought consecrated ground was a big deal with demons and shit. He’d assumed that the ground would burn Josh and Ryan’s blood or something awful. Frank was relieved, though. They didn’t need another fucking problem on their hands. Ryan and Josh being unable to enter a church? That was a pretty fucking big problem.

“He looks so tired,” Josh mumbled, watching Ryan sleep like a bit of a creep. Ray was smiling like he thought it was cute as he made tea in one of those electric, plastic pots. The hot water sounded amazing as is, and Frank sighed before setting the warm washcloth down on Ryan’s head. Ray had said he felt the beginning of a fever in the poor guy. “What happened to him?” Josh asked, looking up at Frank for a moment. “You said he was possessed? By what?”

“What else is there to be possessed by?” Frank asked, but quickly corrected himself with an apology. “Sorry, sorry, just, yes. He was possessed by a demon. We don’t know of anything else that can possess anyone. Don’t really wanna know, too. But he got possessed. For about a day and a half. Took down the grocery store with that thing riding his body and nearly took down me. That thing used him to do a lot of awful stuff, and we’re pretty sure you can remember things that you do when you’re possessed, right? That’s a thing, right?” Josh only nodded to confirm it. “So all I can say is that Ryan’s sanity has officially snapped. The stuff he saw with his dead dad and Brendon’s suicide all those years ago…he’s broken. And we’re dealing with the fall out.”

Josh raked his fingers gently through Ryan’s sweat matted hair. “He’s just a kid,” Josh mumbled. “Like you and me. We didn’t deserve any of this. This town doesn’t deserve it, even. What did any of these people do to bring all this death upon it? Ever since the burning of the church all those years ago, everything has been so messed up. No one remembers when this town wasn’t a mess, but things were worse after the church.”

“The church was an awful thing,” Ray said.

“It was demons,” Frank replied. “Right?” He looked to Ray. “It’s gotta be. We went there, found that whole fucking incantation underneath the fucking floorboards, and then Ryan got possessed by that face in the ceiling. Or maybe by something else, but it came from the church, Ray. It all came from the church.” Frank paused. “Holy shit. It’s all the church. Right? What else can it be? Everything got worse when it burned, and Ryan got possessed there with the sigil! It’s the church, it’s something about the church.”

“Even if it is, there’s no one we can ask,” Ray sighed. “No one survived that fire, Frank. Except Father North, but look at him now. He’s gone too.” Ray shook his head as the plastic kettle started to beep, signaling to them that the water was ready. “We’re up shit creek here, and we’ve got nothing. No books, no papers, no source of information to help us. We’re past the point of needing to know how to stop these things. We can’t learn anything from Gerard’s library anymore. We have to learn about this town, in particular, and there’s nothing. We’re in the dark.”

“Literally,” Josh commented dryly. “How can I help?”

“Can you?” Frank asked incredulously. “Ray can’t help us. Fucking Gerard can’t, right? And if Gee can’t help, then how can you?”

“My uncle is the sheriff,” Josh replied. “He can get me any information I could want about this town and any sort of crime that happened in it.”

Frank’s brow shot up and Ray’s eyes went wide. “Ryan’s dating the sheriff’s newphew?” Frank asked with the beginning of a smirk.

“Hopefully,” Josh snorted. “I mean, I-I’d like to. Have that chance. I really wanna date him, even if you say his head in broken. He’s always been kinda broken, anyways. I feel like I can help him. All of us can, if you guys can still stomach him after that stuff. I’m still not clear on what happened. But, like, I wanna date him. I have since I met him. Back when he was with Brendon.” Josh ducked his head. “It’s pretty pathetic, you know? To have a crush on someone for that long.”

“Some studies say that having those kinds of feelings for someone for over four months means it becomes love,” Ray commented from the side, smiling.’

“Oh god,” Josh choked out with a fierce blush and a grin. “I guess, maybe? It’s been so long. I didn’t want to get in between him and Brendon, and after Brendon died, it always just seemed like poor taste. Even now, talking about it and how I feel, I feel like I’m sort of shitting all over Brendon’s memory and what he meant to Ryan. I don’t want to do that. I wanna be respectful. A kid died and…there’s no way Ryan could ever fall for me.”

“Don’t say that,” Ray admonished. “You shouldn’t give up. Not if it’s been so long. That’s legitimate love, kid, real emotion, in sighT, sound, and color.” Ray reached down and rubbed Josh’s shoulder before handing him a cup of tea — Frank hadn’t seen him make — in a chipped, ceramic mug that had a mermaid swimming across the body. “Ryan needs someone like you in his life. A positive, worldly person that has interest in him in more than just platonic friendship. Frank’s got Gee, now, and I’ve got, uh, Christy.” Frank winced when he realized he hadn’t told Ray about Mikey. He didn’t know when would be the right time, but he knew it wasn’t now.

“Don’t give up on love,” Ray said, being such a fucking hypocrite. “The real stuff needs to be cherished and nurtured. And sometimes that takes a while, but I can confidently say that you and Ryan are good for each other.”

“We are?” Josh asked cautiously. Fuck, poor kid probably hadn’t heard any encouragement for this except for, maybe, that Tyler kid. Josh must be starved for people to believe in him and what he felt.

Ray nodded, hand still on Josh’s shoulder. “You’re good, through and through. Not even a demon could bring you down. Ryan will need you to help him through this because you and him are now the only two people to have ever survived a possession. He’ll need you to guide him through the healing process. And I have a feeling he’ll find himself needing you more even after that.”

Josh smiled a bit. “I can do that. I can help him. Tyler and I worked out a few things that helped. Incense and stuff like that. If you guys let me, I can definitely get him through this.”

“Couldn’t have chosen anyone better,” Ray said.

Josh nodded to himself and scooted closer to Ryan’s sleeping form on the mattress, petting Ryan’s hair again. Frank could almost visibly see the affection Josh felt for the other boy, in some ways to the point of obsession. He didn’t know how Josh thought he was going to pull Josh from this emptiness, but he hoped whatever Josh had in mind worked. 

“Ray?” Frank called out after a moment. “Can I talk to you? Privately?” He sent Josh an apologetic glance, but Josh shrugged it off. Frank was relieved to learn that Josh wasn’t a controlling ass. Ray followed him out of the office and into the main sanctuary. Ray sat in one of the pews and sighed up at the visage of Mary looking down on them, a sort of peace coming over this expression that Frank envied. 

“This is bad, right?” Ray asked. “All of this? I know it’s supposed to be, I know I’m supposed to be worried and shit and think that we’re all doomed and gonna die and stuff, but seeing Josh and Ryan like that makes it hard. It makes it difficult to see my whole world as over, because Josh loves Ryan so completely and it’s nice, you know? It’s nice that Josh wants to make Ryan so happy.”

“Does Christy make you that happy?” Frank had to ask. The way Ray had stuttered over her name was too telling. 

Ray grimaced. “Christy is a good girl. She’s going to be my wife, one day. And that’s all that matters, alright? That’s all I think should matter. Mikey’s asleep, Frank, and there’s nothing I can do about it. So I’m with Christy, and I would be with her even if Mikey were somehow alive. Mikey was a sin. Christy isn’t. Call that what you will — manipulative or wrong or fucked up, I don’t care. I’m with her and Mikey’s gone.”

“Mikey’s awake,” Frank told him softly, understanding the nuclear bomb he was about to drop on Ray’s head. Ray turned to stare at him. Frank could see the fury of emotions running through Ray’s mind, the pain and shock and absolute agony. Frank couldn’t even begin to imagine what he was feeling.

Ray stood from the pew and slowly paced in front of Mother Mary, tugging at his fingertips with his opposite hand and not saying a word. Frank watched him, waiting for the breakdown. But nothing happened. 

Ray took in a long, shaky breath to face Frank. “You’re not lying, are you,” he stated rather than asked. “Mikey is…he’s back. Somehow.” Ray shook his head. “How do you know?”

“Gee and I went back to Gee’s house and he was there,” Frank replied. “He looked…good. Really good. Especially for someone coming out of a three year coma. He didn’t have any, like, brain damage or anything that I could see. He was even somehow, uh…advanced? I mean, I’m pretty sure coma patients for more than a few months have very little cognitive development, that they’re stuck back in the year they collapsed in, but Mikey seems all caught up. And, uh, when he heard your name? That you were still around? It’s like his world stopped. Gee tried to tell him there was hope for whatever, but I told him the truth. That you’re with Christy.” Frank paused. “Was that the right thing to say?”

“Yes,” Ray said, but he sounded like he was lying. “You did the right thing, Frank. thank you.”

“Are you really so sure about that?” Frank pressed. “He seemed so crushed when I told him. I think he still feels something for you Ray, are you sure you can’t—”

“It’s wrong,” Ray interrupted in a choked whisper. “You heard that thing in Ryan. They call me the Defiler. Why do you think that is?”

Frank shook his head because he didn’t know. 

“It’s because of what I did to Mikey,” Ray told him. “I messed him up in ways that the worldly will never understand. Before he went down, I…I did things with him. Things that should never be done to a boy his age.”

“You were young too,” Frank tried to plead.

“I am a defiler,” Ray said firmly, sounding resolute. Frank knew there was no way he could convince Ray otherwise. “I brought Mikey down into sin with my body and I took advantage of him. I am the worst kind of sinner. I’m a monster. A freak.” Ray stopped pacing and looked to Mother Mary with tears shining in his eyes. “Why do you think I turned to this life? I was naive enough to believe I could be redeemed. Forgiven. God will always see me as what I am. The Defiler.”

“Fuck, Ray, that’s total bullshit,” Frank said. “You know it is. You’re not some freak, okay? You’re just a guy. A guy who fell in love with another guy, who also fucking loves you! But you’re too caught up in these lies to let yourself be happy.”

“I can’t be happy with him,” Ray said. “I can’t. It’s wrong. It’s giving into temptation.”

“What, cause he’s a boy?” Frank asked. 

“Because he was fucking thirteen,” Ray stressed. “And I was eighteen. That’s five fucking years, Frank, that’s fucking sin, not to mention entirely illegal!”

“He gave consent,” Frank tried to defend. He honestly didn’t have an argument for the whole illegal thing. That was definitely a deal breaker for a lot of the world. 

“Consent doesn’t mean a thing with a thirteen year old,” Ray choke out.

Frank sighed. “I mean, did you fuck him?”

Ray whirled around to face him with disgust. “What? What the fuck, Frank? I would never fucking do that! I may be sick, I may be a freak, but I’m not fucking evil! I know the limits. I only ever did what he asked for, except that! I would never, ever fucking do that.”

Frank smiled shakily. “I probably wouldn’t have thought any less of you if you did, Ray. I really, really think this kid was in love with you. And he still is. His heart was fucking broken the moment I told him you had a girl in his life. I could literally see the cracks start breaking in his chest through his eyes. It’s all fucked, dude. You can’t just turn your back on him now that you know he wants you just as much as you want him. And so what it was a little, uh, illegal back then? It’s not now. He’s what, sixteen? You’re only twenty one, right?”

Ray nodded. “See?” Frank prodded. “That’s not so bad anymore.”

“He’s been in a coma,” Ray said. “He may as well still be thirteen.”

“But that’s what I’ve been telling you! It’s like he hasn’t even been asleep. Or maybe he’s been growing in his sleep, or something, but he’s not thirteen anymore. He acts his age, dude, it’s fucking weird. There’s no mental whatever, there’s no stunted growth or brain damage, it…It’s really fucking weird, Ray.”

Ray shook his head. “I’m not going down that road again. I have Christy.”

“And where is she?” Frank demanded. “Because for your girl, I haven’t really seen her around. Don't you think, when the town is going to hell like this, she’d want to see her boyfriend? Or at least make sure he’s okay? But she isn’t fucking anywhere, Ray! If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were lying to cover your tracks.”

Ray’s expression became unreadable. “I haven’t heard from her since the grocery store,” he said. “I, uh, I gave her a call beforehand. Checked up on her, and then we left. She usually calls me once a day, at least. She calls the church.” Ray’s eyes went to the back room, where Ryan and Josh were. “Frank — she hasn’t called.”

“I’m sure she’s fine,” Frank sighed.

“She might not be,” Ray choked out. “Fuck.” He looked over Frank for a long moment. “I’m gonna grab my jacket and then go to her place. Don’t wait for me.” He was into the backroom and headed out of the church before Frank could gather his thoughts enough to say anything.

“He okay?” Josh asked gently as Frank returned to the back room. “He seemed a little hurried.”

“Checking on his fucking girlfriend that he only half loves,” Frank griped. He looked to Josh and saw that Ryan was halfway curled into Josh’s lap, sleeping almost peacefully. There was a twist in his brow, like he was having some sort of nightmare, but Josh was still petting his hair, and god, Frank wanted something to work for them, just one of them. And out of all of them, Ryan was definitely one of the most deserving. Josh was a good guy, he hoped. “How’s he doing?”

“He woke up for a second,” Josh said. “Mumbling about Brendon again.” Josh shook his head. “Sucks. I’ll probably always live in Brendon’s shadow if I’m ever lucky enough to call Ryan something like mine.”

“Don’t worry about that right now,” Frank said. “We gotta prioritize. Gerard’s brother is awake and Ryan’s been possessed. The police are looking for him, right? We need to hide here and find out what they want. How to get Ryan out of this.”

“He’s just got to hide,” Josh said. “I’ll be listening to my dad, okay? I know they won’t find him. I’ve got ears on the inside, okay? He’ll be okay.”

“He’s basically in a coma of his own,” Frank reminded Josh skeptically. “He’s literally sleeping his pain away, and there’s a fuck load of pain in there. Plus, we’ve never been around someone who’s been possessed for over twenty four hours. We don’t know what the fuck we’re dealing with. And these things? I have a feeling we’ve alerted them to our presence as more than just a mumbling idiots that stumble into bad shit and handle it. They had a name for Ray, a fucking title. That suggests there’s thought given to us now.”

“Us?” Josh asked with a crooked grin. “I dunno, Frank. I’m not keen on joining the team. Not very good at fighting. And I definitely don’t have a stomach for blood.”

“I’m sorry, dude, but if you want with Ryan, then you’ve got to understand that you’re gonna at least be on the sidelines.” When Josh met his eyes, Frank sent him an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry dude, but that’s not ow this is gonna work. I don’t want to be cruel, but if you want nothing to do with this life? You’ve got to quit Ryan now.”

“Fuck,” Josh groaned. “Fucking fuck.”

Frank nodded. “Yeah.”

“I’m not quitting on Ryan,” Josh said firmly. “But I’m not fighting.”

“This is a big decision,” Frank told him. “It’s not as simple as wanting to know if you’re gonna date some guy or not. This is kinda your entire life, dude.”

Josh looked down at Ryan. “Can I bring Tyler with?”

“Oh my god,” Frank blurted out. “Not only are you gonna say yes, but you’re gonna drag your best friend into it too?”

“Where I go, Tyler goes,” Josh said. “So I was never making this decision for just myself. If I go with Ryan, Tyler comes too, whether I like it or not. And if I don’t go? I’ll probably never, ever be able to leave this town. No matter how much I want to.” Josh smiled down at Ryan. “Where Ryan goes, I go. I’ve known him long enough. Know him well enough. Even if he doesn’t li-… Love me. Like I love him. That’s okay. I’m happy just to tag along and keep him safe.”

“You don’t even know the first thing about this life,” Frank said. “What would you even do?”

Josh shrugged. “I don’t know. I could drive?”

“Ray’s the one with the truck,” Frank snorted.

“You guys won’t all fit in one truck. Plus, Ray’s your priest-slash-medic. You can’t have one guy playing three roles. And I can get you guys around the country. Call for places to stay, do the research and find people who need your help. I’ll be like your agent, only a little more rampant.”

“Wait, you think we’re going to take this, like, nationally?”

“Why wouldn’t you?” Josh asked with a shrug. “It’s apparently a big problem. Why wouldn’t you help other people? There’s a ton of people online with demonic problems that no church is willing to touch. There are forums and websites and there’s even some lame Tumblr page. You guys could be like national Ghostbusters or something.”

Frank’s brow furrowed in bewilderment. “I thought this town had no internet.”

“My uncle's office does,” Josh replied. “I get on there sometimes.”

“Huh,” was all Frank said. Then, “You’re not helping us.”

Josh’s deflated. “But I—”

“And if Ryan feels anything for you that goes beyond apathy, then he’ll agree with me,” Frank continued. “You got out of this shit by the skin of your teeth, dude, with the trauma as a constant reminder of why you should stay out. But you get that, right, Dun? You fucking got out. It’s too late for me. Too late for Ryan. Too late for any of us. We’ve all got things to tie us into this mess that you don’t. You don’t have to be pulled back into this.”

“But don’t you see?” Josh sighed. “Ryan is that thing tying me to this. He’s the reason I’d want to stay. He’s the reason I want to fight.” He smiled tiredly. “I don’t expect you to understand, okay? But I think you do, anyways. The only thing you have tying you to this is Ryan and Gerard. Gerard is for something more than just a friend, right? And that’s keeping you in this demonic mess. Well, Ryan’s my Gerard.”

“Unlike you, I’m actually dating Gerard,” Frank said cruelly. He was getting a little panicked. He had a feeling he wasn’t going to be able to dissuade Josh from this horrible path, and he was becoming desperate. “I have Gerard, you don’t have Ryan, you might never fucking have Ryan. You can’t throw your life away for a half assed chance at a possible happiness that is gonna be hindered by the fact that we fighting fucking demons!”

“Just because you’re fighting these things doesn’t mean Ryan won’t like me back,” Josh tried to hedge. “A lot could change.”

“He’s still in love with a fucking corpse,” Frank told Josh harshly. “I’m sorry to say that you won’t find your happy ending here.”

Josh looked away with a stiff lower lip. “Who cares,” he said after a moment. “I don’t.”

“It’s important,” Frank pleaded. “Don’t throw your life away.”

“I don’t have a life to throw away,” Josh told him. “I don’t have any plans beyond high school. All I had was some half assed idea of getting a football scholarship to a shitty university, maybe getting drafted, but probably not, and living from paycheck to paycheck. I have literally no life planned ahead for me, Frank. What you guys have is more than I, or anyone else in our fucking school, will ever have.” Josh sighed. “Do you even realize how lucky you are? To have a fucking purpose? One that goes beyond having kids and grandkids? I’m jealous, okay? The more I recovered from what happened, the more jealous I became.”

“It’s not all it’s cracked up to be,” Frank told him. “We’re basically gonna die, like, super fucking early. I’m gonna be dead by twenty-five, at best. And that’s me being fucking generous, Josh, really fucking generous. I’m probably gonna have my guts torn out and thrown all over some fucking room. I’m gonna eat someone’s guts again and so is Ryan. Ray’s gonna have his head on some pike and Gee will be lucky if he’s not in a coma like his brother was.”

“Way to be a fucking cynic,” Josh griped. “Why don’t you just leave me and Ryan alone? He needs sleep, and not you, yelling doom and gloom into his ear.”

Frank scowled. “Don’t follow us into literal hell, Josh. Even for someone you love.”

“Thanks for half assed advice,” Josh griped. “Why don’t you get Ryan some food for when he wakes up?”

Frank stood with a huff and reluctantly did as suggested. Ray came back to the church a few hours later with no news about Christy. “She just wasn’t home,” Ray mumbled, a little bit more to himself than Frank. “She wasn’t home. I don’t know where she is.”

. . .

_“What did you call me before?” Gerard asked Frank softly that night in Frank’s head. Frank was lying atop a bed of wet flesh with a pillow of literal limbs beneath his head. The walls bled red and Gerard crawled across the organs, his hand sinking into a liver and his knee resting on a heart. “Nobody? Thank you for my name.”_

_Gerard hovered above Frank on his elbows and knees, passing his bare chest to Frank’s. There was nothing but blood between their bodies, no clothes or blankets. Frank shuddered and tried not to be afraid as darkness crawled onto the pile of death like the arms of monsters. He heard a shucking in his left ear, like meat being bool from bone, and looked to see Ryan was pulling the muscle from Josh’s ribs and chest, devouring him. Ray was already down to bones with only his head intact. The rest was skeletal, red and gruesome, strips of flesh clinging to bone._

_Frank had to turn back to Gerard. He didn’t want that memory. Gerard was smiling softly down at him, face full of pity._

_“You shouldn’t be afraid, Frankie,” Gerard cooed. “It’ll be easier if you just accept what’s coming. He’s awake, after all. We’ve already won. Nothing can keep him sane. The Defiler will fall, and even Amon cannot stop us. He’s as good as dead.”_

_“Amon is as good as dead,” Frank echoed like a zombie, staring up in Gerard’s inaccurately golden eyes._

_Gerard smiled wider and bent down to kiss Frank. The touch of their lips was cold and something slid from Gerard’s mouth into Frank’s, like a living creature. Frank’s eyes went wide as it slithered down his throat and settled in his stomach._

_“You haven’t experienced pain like the pain of your friends,” Gerard murmured almost lovingly. “But I can promise you that you will know their agony soon. I’ve been making them see things, after all. You know the dreams haven’t only been yours.” Gerard smiled widely. “They scream so loudly. It’s a wonder it doesn’t wake you up.”_

 

. . .

Frank shot awake to the sound of Ray screaming in his sleep. His hands shot to his stomach, pulling up his shirt and looking down to make sure there was no protrusion suggesting an alien creature resting in his stomach. When he saw there was nothing inside, he reached across the pew and pat at Ray’s thigh. “Dude, wake up,” he prodded, sitting up fully and tugging at Ray’s hand. The older man was thrashing about, head moving back and forth like he had a fever or some sort, and he kept mumbling. 

“Ray, c’mon,” Frank prodded, getting a little nervous. “Don’t make me dump water over your head.” He tugged a little hard, then stood from the pew and moved to jostle Ray by the shoulder. He didn’t know if he was good enough friends with Ray to wake him up like he would with Gerard or Ryan. “Ray, hey…”

Ray woke up with only his eyes. He sucked in a breath and looked around, a wild edge to his eyes, but nothing insane. He smiled at Frank. “I, uh, hey. I’m good. What’s up? Why’d you wake me?”

“You were screaming,” Frank told him simply. 

“I was?” Ray laughed tightly. “Happens sometimes. Sorry about that. Been having these dreams and stuff, it’s just dreams, though.”

“We all have the dreams,” Frank sighed. “It’s okay. You don’t have to cover it up.”

Ray faltered. “You see Mikey too?”

“I see Gerard,” Frank replied. “Pretty sure Ryan sees Brendon. And Gerard might see Mikey, too. It’s sad. It’s some sort of demonic thing. They like to mess with our heads. They like to take what they think will make you happy and make it twisted. I, uh…kinda just had a dream too. Gee probably did too. And Ryan.”

Ray breathed slowly. “What did you see?”

“Gerard was kissing me on a bed of organs and Ryan was eating Josh,” Frank replied. He was becoming pretty desensitized to the aftermath of the dreams. “He was telling me about someone named Amon.”

“God,” Ray gasped. “Mikey, I was…above him. He said all these things about me. Called me sick and wrong. Told me I was disgusting. And then he had a gun. Pointed it to my head and told me he’d do it for me if I was too scared.” Frank saw Ray shudder and Ray’s dream was honestly way worse than anything Frank had ever experienced. He’d never been told to outright kill himself.

“Even in my dream, with a gun in my face, he was beautiful,” Ray breathed, staring up at the ceiling of the church. “What do I do, Frank?”

“You know what I want you to do about Mikey.”

Ray shut his eyes. “I’m going to go pray. I’ll be in the back.” Ray sat up from the pew and grabbed a bible from the back of one of the other pews. “Be back in five.”

Frank watched him go and didn’t bother keeping the pity from his face.

. . .

“Should I be nervous?” Mikey asked later the next day. Frank was standing outside the church with the two brothers, surrounded by the still-silent town. There were sirens in the distance, but they had been steadily growing quieter. These idiots had no idea where Ryan was. Tyler had been around earlier in the morning to bring Josh home, saying that Josh’s dad was worried. Ryan hadn’t woken up when Josh kissed his forehead goodbye. Frank was starting to think they’d need to steal IV bags or something to keep Ryan alive.

“Why would you be nervous?” Gerard asked his brother with a bright smiler. He obviously hadn’t gotten over having Mikey back yet. “They’re just out friends, Mikey! No harm there.”

“Except Ryan hasn’t woken up in, like, twenty-four hours,” Frank reminded Gerard with a withered expression. “Oh, and turns out? Ray’s been having the nightmares too. Also, who the fuck is Amon?”

Mikey flinched at the name, but Gerard didn’t see it. Frank narrowed his eyes in almost stupid suspicion, cause this shit didn’t just happen coincidentally. 

“They’re patrolling the streets, Frankie,” Gerard told him. “We had one cop car pass our house last night. Four guys were looking out the windows with flashlights. Is that why you never came back for dinner?” Gerard pouted at Frank, shifting from foot to foot. “I was really excited to have everyone over for dinner. I’m sure it was an emergency, right?”

“Josh showed up at my house,” Frank told him. “Said the cops are after Ryan.”

“How would he know?”

“His uncle is apparently the sheriff,” Frank sighed.

“Oh wow,” Gerard giggled. “How scandalous,”

“Can you please just take this serious, Gee? Ryan’s in serious trouble and he isn’t doing so well. He had a full on mental break down yesterday, rambling about Brendon and shit. I get that things are going pretty great for you, but they’re not for the rest of us.”

Gerard’s happiness faltered and Mikey sneered at Frank. “Don’t be a fucking asshole to my brother.”

“Neither of you have any fucking idea what happened yesterday,” Frank accused, not standing down. “Try not to come off as a bunch of dumbasses with all of your fucking assumptions, yeah? Ryan really needs fucking help. And Ray’s also got his own fucking issues, so I would really appreciate it if Gerard would just double down and focus on the fact that people are dying, and for the first time ever, they’re doing something about it.”

Gerard hesitated. “That is a little weird.”

“It’s a lot weird,’ Frank corrected. “Now will you please come inside so you can help me figure out what’s wrong with Ryan?”

“The exorcism may not have been completed,” Gerard told Frank way too logically. “We’ve only ever completed an exorcism by my word of mouth. Maybe Ray’s exorcism isn’t entirely foolproof. Maybe I need to do some additional stuff.”

“Maybe Ryan’s finally lost it,” Mikey snorted. “Did he and Brendon break up?”

Frank looked to Gerard in shock. Gerard winced.

“Brendon’s actually dead, Mikey,” he told his brother reluctantly. “It happened around the same time you fell asleep. It all just came at everyone so quickly and all at once. Ryan didn’t take it well and I, I kinda stopped being friends with him cause I wanted to wake you up. Uhm, all of us kinda did. Me and Ray. Ryan became better friends with Pete and Patrick after that. Oh, and Josh Dun has a huge crush on him. But yeah, Brendon’s died.”

Mikey’s mouth was hanging open. “Did he jump?”

Gerard nodded, looking a little surprised. “He did.”

Mikey looked away. “It wasn’t him.”

“That’s what Ryan says,” Frank affirmed. 

“Ryan’s right,” Mikey said. “Brendon was possessed. By a demon named Bael. They were celebrating putting me under and killing Brendon. It also helped a lot because it was a large key step in making Ryan emotionally vulnerable for a prolonged amount of time, allowing Magnu to remain in control of his body for so long without Ryan’s heart collapsing and succumbing.”

Frank and Gerard both gaped at him.

“What the fuck, Mikey?” Gerard asked shakily. 

“How the fuck do you know that?” Frank demanded. “How do you know this shit?”

“They talked so much while I was asleep,” Mikey told them. “So much so that I almost couldn’t hear Gee when he came to visit. They were just talking and talking and talking. I couldn’t get away from them, couldn’t ignore the voices either. I had to listen to them for three years. And Amon…”

“You know its name,” Frank interjected.

“You guys keep saying their fucking names,” Gerard moaned. “Why the fuck do you keep saying their fucking names? How many times do I have to fucking tell you not to say their fucking names? It’s literally inviting them! You are inviting them, and drawing attention to us, and telling those things to listen in on our conversations. You are fucking us.”

“Gee, they’re listening to you whenever you’re around me,” Mikey told his brother a little dejectedly.

“Why would they?” Gerard demanded. “You’re fucking out, Mikey, you’re awake and alive.”

Mikey didn’t answer.

“Gee, you seem to think that now you’re brother’s awake, all of our problems are gone,” Frank observed slowly, watching Gerard. “They’re not fucking gone. Ryan’s a wanted man. Ray lost his mentor. And we’re all still having dreams.”

“Dreams?” Mikey asked.

“We’ve got these things wormed into our skulls, Gee,” Frank continued, ignoring Mikey. “We can’t ignored what happened to us. I’m happy Mikey’s back, but that doesn’t solve every problem, only one.”

Gerard hung his head in dejection. “This all started just because I wanted my brother back…”

“And it became more,” Frank told him, moving close to stand in front of Gerard and reaching down to hold his hands between their bodies. “I know you have to be tired. You’ve been doing this longer than any of us. But we can’t do this without you, especially with Ryan out of commission.”

“You were the one to step up when Ryan was gone,” Gerard argued weakly. “You’re second in command. I just know shit.”

“And can exorcise with your fucking voice,” Frank snorted. He looked past Gerard for a second to see Mikey was staring out at the trees. It was drizzling, but the raindrops were steadily growing heavier, and Frank could tell the downpour would be upon them soon. “Gee, you're basically the most important of all of us,” he told the other boy after having to drag his attention away from Mikey. “You’re the only one who can actually do shit, especially if we’re about to find out that Ray’s exorcisms aren’t foolproof. We need you the most, okay? You can’t just ditch us.”

“Do you guys hear that?” Mikey asked.

Gerard and Frank both turned to look to where Mikey was standing. Mikey gestured his head towards the trees. “You hear that, right? Or you don’t?”

Gerard squinted into the forest while Frank frowned and said, “I don’t hear shit, dude.”

Gerard stiffened and Frank looked to the woods, then froze when a black smoke started to creep out from between the tree trunks and inch towards them across the ground.

“Fire?” he asked Gerard.

“It’s raining,” Gerard choked out.

“Get inside,” Frank ordered. “Get inside!” he repeated louder for Mikey. The black smoke was nearly at Mikey’s feet, but the younger Way just stood and stared down at it, like he was entranced. Frank’s eyes went wide as the smoke actually split like the red sea and went past Mikey, heading for them. “Gee, get inside,” he whispered urgently. 

“But my brother.”

“Get the fuck inside,” Frank snapped, dropping Gerard’s hands to shove him towards the church. He strode forward, heading to Mikey, and held his breath as he started to walk through the smoke. He’d thought that would work until he found the smoke was more like fucking cement. He couldn’t move his legs. He was stuck. “Oh shit.”

“Fucking idiot,” Mikey huffed, suddenly standing in front of Frank. The way the smoke parted around Mikey caused it to rejoin just past Frank’s ankles, and he wasn’t stuck anymore. “This is so fucking gay,” Mikey complained. “Stand on my toes like you’re learning to dance and walk with me.”

“Why the fuck isn’t it touching you?” Frank asked instead of arguing, balancing on the front of Mickey’s shoes. 

“You’re lucky you’re so fucking short,” Mikey said instead of answering. He shuffled forward, inching across the grass, and the blackness continued to part around them. But the smoke was crawling up the steps of the church and gathering at the door, swirling higher like it was trying to block the entrance from them entirely. Getting up the steps was the hardest, part, but Mikey and Frank managed it, and the smack burst away from the door when Mikey touched the handle. Mikey opened the door and then shoved Frank inside before falling in right behind him. Gerard shut and locked the doors from behind them, moving one of the choir chairs to jam the door shut.

“What the fuck is happening?” Frank asked as the black smoke began to cover the windows and block out all sunlight. “Where’s Ray?”

“He wasn’t here when I came inside,” Gerard whimpered. “Ryan’s alone in the back.”

“We’re fucked,” Frank cursed, because that was all he could think to say.

“We need weapons, right?” Gerard asked shrilly. The door suddenly began to lurch inward, like fists were pounding against it. “Oh god, oh god,” Gerard whimpered, his hands visibly shaking. “They’ve never done this before. They need vessels, Frank, what are they doing?”

“We’re gonna fucking die,” Frank groaned, despair falling over his body like the cold covering his bones. It was like someone had flicked a switch in his brain. The darkness was all encompassing and surrounding them, like in his nightmares. “We’re gonna die,” Frank repeated. He got to the front of the church and pulled out the matches that were used to light candles. There was no way for them to make it out of this in one piece — it would only take one possession, just a demon overtaking Gerard’s body, and then they’d all be torn limb from limb. Frank would die here, in this church.

“I'm gonna die,” Frank whispered as he lit a match without any cognitive decision to do so, and then lit his jacket sleeve on fire. He watched the light and heat spread and knew he’d be burning too.

Water suddenly doused his head and arm and a firm hand collided with his cheek.

“Snap out of it,” Ryan commanded. Frank looked up at him, shaking, the darkness encroaching his vision. Ryan slapped him again, though, and the darkness receded. “Snap out of it.”

Frank nodded dumbly.

“Gerard!’ Ryan shouted over the roaring sound of the smoke. Frank wasn’t sure when it had become so noisy, but he could hear the whispers now. “I need you to draw this on the floor, right now.” He handed Gerard a book and a blue plastic mug full of something red. “Mikey, help me with making salt lines at all the doors while I barricade the windows.”

Mikey stared at Ryan, someone he hadn’t seen in three years, and took the back of cooking salt Ryan handed him. Ryan pulled an entire fucking pew from one of the rows and pushed it up against the door. Gerard was on his knees in the middle of the floor, painting a circle with his fingertips dripping with the red liquid. Frank dropped to the ground beside him and started to help. The roaring grew louder, filling Frank’s eardrums, but every time he stopped working, Gerard reached out and touched his clean palm to Frank’s neck. The warmth would spread, and Frank would be himself again for a few more moments. 

“The glass is breaking, Ryan,” Mikey warned.

“They can’t get past the salt,” Ryan told him, handing Mikey a hammer. “If they get through that door, you fight like your fucking life depends on it, okay? Unless you want a repeat of three years ago.”

“Done!” Gerard shouted, stepping back from the intricate pattern on the floor. The circles weren’t perfect and some of the alien letters looked fucking weird, but Ryan didn’t look upset by it. He dropped to the ground on his knees in front of the symbol and looked to the door calmly. The windows started to shatter, resembling spiderwebs.

The pew in front of the doors was suddenly flung over their heads, hitting the opposite wall, splintering into pieces and breaking Mother Mary in half. The doors were flung open and the blackness rushed into the church. 

Frank looked to Ryan, needing direction. He watched in horror, though, as Ryan brought a knife to his palm and sliced his hand open. As the darkness slid around Frank’s ankles and cemented him to the ground, Ryan mumbled a few words Frank didn’t understand and slammed his bleeding hand into the center of the symbol.

Light filled the room, like the symbol had been turned into the fucking sun. The roaring whispers turned into legitimate screams and Frank clamped his hands over his ears. He couldn't see, which he was accustomed to, but the brightness hurt his eyes in a way the darkness never had before.

The light died in a matter of moments, and the natural light of the sun shone through the windows. Frank looked around slowly in awe, wondering if Ryan had actually beaten all of that evil with just that one symbol.

Ryan was still sitting on his knees, his fingers pressed to the cut to staunch the bleeding. Gerard latched onto Mikey and hugged his brother. “We’re okay,” Gerard breathed. “We’re okay.” Mikey hesitantly wrapped his arms around Gerard, then flitted his eyes around to all the corners of the church like he was expecting to see some lingering smoke.

“Are we?” Ryan asked, sounding snarky. “Now they can harm us outside of a vessel. Toss out the ouija board, Gerard. They don’t need it anymore.” Ryan stood. “This is war, now,” he told all three of them. “It’s the four of us against thousands of them. So find Ray and get your heads out of your asses. I’m tired of playing defense. From now on, we’re taking the fight to them.”

Frank watched Ryan head towards the back room of the church before dropping into one of the pews, his knees to weak to keep him standing. He suddenly realized that, out of everyone in their rag tag group of suicidal idiots, he was completely useless.


	13. The Angel of the Bottomless Pit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Remix

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **OKAY SO**
> 
>  
> 
> As you may notice, this chapter is nearly 6k longer than all the others. That's because it's from a new POV-- Mikey.
> 
> The story will not remain in Mikey's POV and will change back to Frank in the next chapter. There were unfortunately parts of this story that needed to be told that I couldn't tell through Frank's perspective. I'm sorry if this throws you off or something, just know that I did labor over the decision for basically the entirety of the time I've ben writing this fic. 
> 
> If you find yourself still confused by some concepts/explanations at the end of the story, hella reach out to me. I fucking LOOOOOVE answering questions and explaining stuff and I just love being able to rant about the world building I've done for this story.
> 
> Lastly, (and spoilers) Ray and Mikey fuck. Ray is 21 and Mikey is 16. If this age difference bothers you, skip about the last 3k and just pretend that had a lovely discussion about exotic butters and now they're friends again. Also, it's, like, my second time writing sex. Any comments/tips/suggestions on how to better that would be greatly appreciated as I will probably never learn from experience. 
> 
> song rec: **Bedroom Hymns by Florence + The Machine**

Mikey watched Gerard talk to Frank about something or another involving death and darkness and all that mummery drummery. Mikey looked down at his hands, though, and smiled. It was nice to see his fingerprints on his skin again. He remembered the feeling of them burning from his body and enjoyed the stubbornness his body had withheld in sleep.

It was weird to be in his body again. The simplicity of existence in your mind carried a sense of weightlessness that Mikey wanted to relate to walking on a smaller planet that had much less gravity than Earth. He was finding he was having trouble with knowing how high to lift his legs to climb steps, but nothing too bad. He hadn’t tripped up any stairs yet, and he hoped that if he did, it wouldn’t be in front of anyone. Mikey would be able to adjust soon.

_you cannot be serious— this cannot be what fills your mind_

“Shut up,” Mikey grumbled, watching Gerard and Frank continue to discuss something with vehemence. He glanced past them and saw Ryan was sitting against a stain-glass window with an actual halo of glass around his head, and he was staring at Mikey. Mikey didn’t do anything, only stared back with a cool expression. He hadn’t greeted Ryan yet, hadn’t even said hello. He’d barely heard of how his brother had treated Ryan while away, and honestly hadn’t expected any better. While being asleep, he had sort of assumed that Gerard would neglect the entire fucking world in favor of one person. Still, even though Mikey knew what Gee had done was wrong, it made him smile again. He liked the idea of his brother giving up so much for him, though he more so liked the idea and not the reality.

“Why’re you smiling?” Ryan asked stiffly.

“I’m sorry Gerard just kinda left you,” Mikey said instead of answering. He didn’t want to answer any questions today.

Ryan narrowed his eyes, then stood and left the stain-glass. Mikey saw that the halo that had been around Ryan’s head was actually from the archangel Michael. His bicep started to twitch in his arm, and Mikey reached up with his other hand to squeeze the muscle and make it stop. Ryan sat down next to him.

“How’re you holding up?” Ryan asked, still a little stiff. Mikey didn’t actually mind answering this kind of question. He shrugged and then smiled at Ryan. He wasn’t feeling up to speed on his emotions, and felt like smiling was just a good way to cover up his detachment. 

“Well enough,” Mikey replied, looking down at his fingerprints again. Seeing them made him feel a little grounded and it was almost like becoming reacquainted with his reflection— which he had definitely had to do back at home. “I think the air tastes different. Does it taste different to you? A little less… less.”

“Less less?” Ryan repeated, frowning. 

“It tastes a little less like stagnant lakes and more like running rivers,” Mikey clarified. Ryan still looked confused. “I’ve been breathing oxygen through a mask for, like, three years,” Mikey said, even though he was pretty sure he hadn’t had a mask on for most of it. “Give me a little room when it comes to, uh…” He couldn’t think of the English words.

“Are you feeling okay?” Ryan asked, the frowning becoming a little more worried as the seconds passed and Mikey still struggled to think of the words that he wasn’t sure he knew at all. He looked back to his fingerprints, though, and felt better about about forgetting the words.

“I’m feeling great.” Mikey told the half truth. He had no idea how he was feeling.

_you disappoint me_

“I disappoint everyone,” Mikey sighed. He looked to Ryan once he spoke aloud and pursed his lips. He was used to being able to respond whenever without having to worry about an audience. Ryan, though, just narrowed his eyes in suspicion at Mikey. 

“I’m sorry about Brendon,” Mikey said before Ryan could ask about Mikey’s slip up. “It sounds like it was awful. He was a good kid. He didn’t deserve that.”

Ryan didn’t respond.

“I wanted to tell you,” Mikey murmured, lowering his voice so Frank and Gerard wouldn’t overhear this and misinterpret the conversation as one they could butt in on. “That you were right. Brendon was entirely possessed. He had no control over what they were making him do.”

Ryan’s breath caught audibly and he quickly looked away. But Mikey knew Ryan well enough to know that he didn’t want Mikey to stop.

“He was scared, Ryan. He didn’t want you to see it happen. He accepted the fact that he was going to die so very quickly, but he begged for them to spare you. To not let you see what they were going to do. How he was going to die. He didn’t know that they were killing him for you. Didn’t understand that it was all part of some plan to make you weaker to them. He wanted you to be spared his death.”

“A plan?” Ryan shook his head, and Mikey could see the pain in his eyes. “What fucking plan? What kind of plan could involve that?”

“It’s easier to possess a vessel if they’re emotionally vulnerable,” Mikey told him with the patience of a teacher. “They’ve been priming you to be emotionally vulnerable for the entirety of your life since your mother left.”

Ryan looked to Mikey. “… Did they do that too? Did they make her leave?”

Mikey could only nod.

“Am I just a toy to them?” Ryan asked, voice strangled.

“Something like that,” Mikey murmured. He didn’t want to tell Ryan everything yet. Not until he’d told Gerard first. 

“Why me?”

“You were just the one they knew would end up here,” Mikey told him sadly. “Just like they knew Josh would be here. And Brendon would be in the city with you. They knew all of this would happen. They’ve been planning this for years.”

“What the fuck?” Frank asked, causing Mikey to look up. “Planning? This is part of some actual fucking plan?” Mikey could only nod and Frank looked to Gerard with thinly veiled disgust. “A plan, Gee. A fucking plan. And we’re playing right into their hands.”

“You’re all doing really well,” Mikey said to try and make Frank feel better. “They never expected you guys to fight back. Never even thought a bunch of kids could pose a threat.”

“We’re a threat?” Gerard asked, smiling a little. Mikey met the smile and was confused by it. How could Gerard be proud of being a threat? A threat was a target. Mikey wouldn’t want to put himself out in the middle of a firefight like that. “I mean, that’s just kinda cool,” Gerard covered up when he saw Mikey’s reaction. “I never thought a bunch of kids like us could be a threat to demons either. It’s cool. We’re really doing something here. We’re putting up an actual fucking fight and we’re getting noticed.”

“You are,” Mikey affirmed. “They’re gonna try to kill you even more now.”

Gerard’s face fell and Frank readjusted his stance to stand protectively in front of Gerard, like he thought Mikey was some sort of threat.

_you will always be a threat_

“I’m not a threat,” Mikey replied.

Frank narrowed his eyes even more. “I never said you were,” he said suspiciously. “Should I?”

“Frankie, what?” Gerard asked. “You can’t say that.”

“Your brother wakes up out of fucking nowhere and then we’re suddenly attacked in the fucking church,” Frank told Gerard. “You can’t fucking tell me that’s not weird. And now he’s talking to himself and he doesn’t show any sort of signs that he’s been in a coma. This is fucking bizarre, Gee, your brother is acting bizarre. And we’re in the middle of a fucking war. We can’t afford to turn on our back on anything just because it’s easier to pretend it’s all okay.”

“My brother is fine,” Gerard defended.

“No,” Mikey corrected. “I’m not, Gee.” He smiled to cover everything up. “Sorry.”

“You’re not?” Gerard asked, face falling.

“I’m not,” Mikey affirmed. “And I can’t tell you how yet. I don’t understand a lot. But once I do, I’ll tell you, okay?” He kept smiling. “So I’ll give you guys some wide berth. I cannot deny that the legions were likely after me. I won’t avoid you, Gee,” he added as he watched Gerard’s expression lose even more life. “I’ve missed you. It’s been lonely without my brother. But I don’t want to drag all of you into my mess.”

“What mess?” Gerard asked, stepping around Frank to get closer to his brother. “There’s no mess, Mikes, you haven’t been around long enough to make a mess! You can’t just pull away now that you’re with me again.”

“I’m not pulling away,” Mikey insisted. “I just don’t want to be part of the fight.”

“You scared?” Frank asked, sounding defensive. “We can handle this if you’re afraid.”

“I’m not scared,” Mikey told him calmly. “I’m being smart.” He kept fucking smiling and it was starting to hurt his face. “I need to take care of some things and they’re very, very dangerous. I’d rather not make things more difficult for you guys.”

“Mikey, please,” Gerard pleaded.

“Let him do what he needs to do,” Ryan sighed. “He’s got his own priorities and he’s not pushing you aside. Just accept it, Gee.” Ryan pat Mikey’s shoulder. “He’s a big kid now, can’t you tell? Got blood on his hands and everything.” Gerard flinched at the comment, but Mikey knew what he’d meant. He’d heard of what had happened to Ryan. Poor boy probably planned on scrubbing parts of his skin raw later tonight. Mikey took a sick fort of pride in knowing his friend well enough, even after so long. He’d suggest Ryan remained supervised for a while. 

“I’m going to be okay,” Mikey assured Gerard. “I can promise you that they’re not trying to hurt me.”

“The darkness parted around you,” Frank reminded them all. “I have a feeling he’s telling the truth.”

Gerard clung to the front of Mikey’s shirt like some sort of primate and Mikey sighed, leaning in to kiss his brother’s cheek from the floor. It hurt his neck a little to angle up like he was, but he remembered his brother loving this little physical statements of adoration, and Mikey really did adore his older brother. His brother was still his hero, even after years of blackness and hell. Gerard had been a gentle source of reprieve in Mikey’s mind. A comfort. He missed his brother and fully intended on coming home tonight to sleep in Gerard’s bed tonight.

_incestuous freak_

Mikey flinched and shut his eyes. He felt Gerard pull back from the touch and tried to school his expression. When he opened his eyes, he saw Gerard was watching him sadly. “I’m getting the idea that you weren’t actually asleep,” Gerard murmured. “Please be safe out there.”

Mikey nodded and made himself smile again. He then stood from his spot against the wall and nodded to everyone with that infuriatingly energy consuming smile. “I’ll be back for dinner,” he promised his brother. “Hope to see you then.”

. . .

Mikey walked around the empty town with an air of detachment. He knew this place was supposed to be his home, but he felt nothing for it. Usually he felt things for people and living creatures— there was no one around. Not even birds overhead. At least he wouldn’t have to pull on that exhausting smile for anyone.

He headed towards the police station— it was where he’d been told to go.

_you are stupid to listen to them_

“I’m stupid for listening to you,” Mikey replied tiredly. “I wish you would leave. I’m awake, now. You have no right remaining inside me. This is not your vessel.”

_your heart will stop if i leave_

Mikey didn’t respond. He stopped in front of the glass doors of the station and cupped his hands around his eyes, trying to look around inside. He didn’t see anyone inside the building and wondered if he shouldn’t actually be here after all. “I don’t see anyone… Should I knock?”

_it is a wonder your species has continued to survive after the falling of empires_

“I think I’ll knock,” Mikey huffed. “Not like anything in here can do anything worse to me.” He lifted his hand and was ready to rap his knuckles on the metal frame, when the doors suddenly swung open slowly on their own. Mikey would’ve thought it was creepy if he hadn’t seen the handicap button be hit mere moments before. The doors were opening way too slowly as well, and Mikey ended up squeezing between the small gap of a halfway open door.

_amateurs_

“Amateurs,” Mikey echoed, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. All the lights were off, save a few headlights that led to the back office like a pathway. Mikey wondered if these things thought he was stupid. He was sure they were underestimating him. “I’m only here to talk,” Mikey told them all, knowing he was being watched from every corner of the room, studied like a lab rat. “I’m not afraid of any of you.”

He heard voices from everywhere start laughing at him. It was ironic, because Mikey was legitimately not afraid. He’d merely felt the need to inform them of such. Mikey shrugged and didn’t think much of it. He could send this assholes back where they came from in a heartbeat. “Don’t be so theatrical,” he admonished. “I’d like to speak with you out in the open if that’s okay.”

It took a long moment, but a man stepped out from a dimly lit corner that Mikey hadn’t originally cared enough to look at in depth. He recognized the man as Andrew Dun, the town’s sheriff. He had been a nice man all of Mikey’s life, even letting him off free of charge that one time Mikey had stolen a tube of lipstick for Gerard. Mikey and the man traded cool looks, both not betraying any emotion. 

“It is kind of you to come as called,” Andrew Dun finally said. “Though we were worried that you had been delayed by some ungodly human error, such as those car accidents they’re so apt to fumble into.”

“Those kill people,” Mikey told him. “Don’t make fun of death.”

“We’ve always mocked these things,” Anthony Dun sighed, probably resisting the urge to give a very-human eye-roll. “You will learn, soon. Things have been put into affect by Lucal, we’ve received our orders and have merely been awaiting you.” Anthony smiled and Mikey wondered if it was as exhausting for the demons as it was for him. “Though now… I see we have an uninvited guest.” Anthony suddenly narrowed his eyes at Mikey. “Amon.”

“Amon isn’t in charge,” Mikey said quickly.

“Of course he isn’t. He can’t even report, can he?” Anthony shook his head. “What a useless creature.”

Mikey didn’t respond. He only stood there, watching Anthony start to pace the room, walking around Mikey and out of his line of sight. Mikey tensed, knowing he should never let his guard down around these things. They had proved as much while in the void. 

“Your body has been asleep for three years,” Anthony murmured, looking Mikey up and down like a man choosing his prize from a harem. “Are you having any problems? Maybe loss of bodily control, seizures, babbling?”

“I just forget words every now and again,” Mikey told him, trying to find some sort of glass or mirror to see the vessel’s reflection behind him. “Do you have the entire station under your control?”

Anthony Dun chuckled. “The station? Try the whole town. Aside the regular citizens, of course. But the teachers, the sparse government, the major landowners of all this godforsaken place— it’s under our control. We’ve been priming this location since Lucal burnt the first church and ruined any sanctity that could exist here. We’ve awaited you for generations, Michael. We are pleased your time has finally come.”

“You knew this would happen to me,” Mikey said, slowly processing this. He’d learned a lot about himself in the void, but never anything in respect of his home. “You knew Amon would take my body.”

“We did,” Anthony told him. “But he was never supposed to remain.” Anthony was in front of Mikey again, narrowing his eyes beyond Mikey’s soul, like he could see Amon inside. “He was supposed to ready your body for anything that could need to be done through sudden adjustment to the presence of demonic, uhm, existence.” Anthony smiled tightly. “The English language my vessel has learned is sometimes lacking of the appropriate terminology. Just know that this has been in the works for centuries. We have been eagerly awaiting you, master.”

At the title, more occupied vessels stepped into the light and all of them took a knee, bowing their heads to Mikey. Anthony did the same. Mikey watched them all with a blank expression even as his heart sped up and panic settled into his bones. His fingers twitched. He finally understood what he was supposed to be.

_i have been warning you all these years of this— they have awaited the antichrist. and now that you are here, they will stop at nothing, spare no one. your awakening has brought this upon the world. you should have slept. ___

__“You should have let me sleep,” Mikey mumbled. Now he knew he shouldn’t have fought Amon’s hold on his mind. He truly was better off dead._ _

__. . ._ _

__He went home when the sun was nearly set and smiled tiredly to Gerard. A war raged within his mind, wondering if he should tell Gerard everything he had learned at the police station. The word “antichrist” was seared into his mind’s eye and he prayed they had chosen the wrong person. Maybe another Michael in his family line. Mikey couldn’t be something like that, after all. He wasn’t born of a jackal. He wasn’t from an evil family. Just look at Gerard— his brother was one of the kindest, softest, and admittedly, weakest people Mikey had ever known. Gerard couldn’t possibly be the brother of the antichrist._ _

__“You’re home,” Gerard said, sounding relieved, moving forward when he saw Mikey and wrapping him up in a hug. “Oh geez, you’re cold! Has it been raining? You should really carry a jacket around or something, and maybe wear warmer clothes. I know a lot of your old stuff doesn’t fit anymore, but I’ve got a few hoodies you can use.”_ _

__Mikey’s smile became a little more real, though not any less tired. “I would like that. Is dinner soon?”_ _

__“Yeah,” Gerard affirmed, pulling Mikey to his bedroom. “Frank’s back with his mom, but Ryan’s staying here for the night. He’s taking a shower right now.” Mikey veered away from Gerard’s room to get to the bathroom, alarms going off in his mind. “Wait, Mikey, your shirt!”_ _

__“Grab it for me, I’ll be there in a sec,” Mikey said. He waited until Gerard shut the bedroom door before opening the bathroom door. A wave of steam hit him, so thick Mikey could barely breathe, and so hot that he felt as if he was under the shower head himself. Mikey reached out and threw back the curtain, expecting Ryan to freak out, but Ryan didn’t notice, didn’t even flinch. He just scrubbed at his skin with one of those green kitchen scrubbers, the rough ones that were just a step down from steel wool. His skin was red and raw and he wasn’t stopping._ _

__“Ryan,” Mikey called out softly. Ryan didn’t respond. “Ryan!” he repeated a little louder. Ryan snapped his head in Mikey’s direction, eyes wide and scared for a split second, before he schooled his expression into something empty._ _

__“Mikey,” he deadpanned. “I’m fucking naked, dude.”_ _

__“You’re hurting yourself,” Mikey told him sadly._ _

__“So?” Ryan asked defiantly._ _

__“Come out from under there,” Mikey prodded. “You’re clean enough cause you scrubbed away all the skin cells. No need to keep going.” He took Ryan’s upper arm gently, but Ryan shrugged him off. “This is pointless, Ryan. There’s nothing on your skin.”_ _

__“I can still taste everything,” Ryan choked out._ _

__“I know you can,” Mikey replied. “I know what it tastes like. And I know it’ll never go away. But you can’t shut down, Ry.” He reached out again and rubbed Ryan’s arm. Ryan didn’t push him away, which Mikey enjoyed. He hadn’t touched human skin very often in the past three years. “Gerard and Frank can’t do shit without you. You handled the church so well, we just need you a little longer.”_ _

__“Gonna use me up till I’m empty, aren’t you?” Ryan asked, looking down at his hand that was still split open. Mikey noticed his lower arms were also cut. “Where do you think Gerard got the blood for all of that?” Ryan asked when he saw Mikey was looking. “I’m feeling fucking dizzy in here. Probably shouldn’t have so much heat, yeah?”_ _

__“We need to get you out of the shower,” Mikey said, tugging gently. Ryan went with him almost willingly this time. He threw a soft towel over Ryan’s red, irritated skin and handed Ryan his boxers. “You’re staying the night, right?” Ryan nodded. “You’re gonna stay with me and Gee?”_ _

__Ryan snorted. “Don’t you have your own bed?”_ _

__“I’ve been away for a while,” Mikey said, going for cryptic. “I’ve missed my brother the most. But I’ve missed my friends too.”_ _

__Ryan shook his head. “You’ve always been creepy for Gee,” he accused, though he sounded almost light hearted, and Mikey distantly remembered how Ryan would tease him over his obsessive affection for his older brother. Mikey smiled again and knew Ryan didn’t intend on hurting with his words and found comfort in continuation. If Ryan was so trusting that Mikey would know it was a joke, that meant Ryan trusted Mikey in general, even after all this time. Even if he shouldn’t. “Just don’t know why you even want this shit,” Ryan continued with a sigh. “If I were you, the second I’d woken up, I would’ve left this fucking town.”_ _

__“I’m surprised you didn’t leave after Brendon was murdered,” Mikey mumbled._ _

__“I wanted to,” Ryan said. “I really did. But my dad needed to stay.”_ _

__Mikey tensed. “… I’m sorry about your father, too.”_ _

__Ryan smiled brokenly. “That seems like a theme for my life now. Just a bunch of people saying I’m sorry. The highlights are the people who actually mean it when they say it.” He looked to Mikey and nodded to to him, some masculine gesture of acceptance and gratitude. “Thanks for saying that. Means a lot.”_ _

__“He’s proud of you,” Mikey added before he realized he probably shouldn’t have. “He thinks it’s amazing that you’re fighting back. He thinks you’re so brave and while he’s sad that you have to live the kind of life he fought wars to make sure you would never had to live, he’s happy that you’re not alone and that you’re doing what’s right, even if you’re afraid.”_ _

__Ryan was staring at Mikey with a soft expression of awe and confusion. “I don’t know how you know that,” he said. “But with everything going on, I’m just gonna suspend my belief and be grateful that you thought to tell me this, whether it’s the truth or not.”_ _

__“It is the truth,” Mikey assured him. “I was there as he faded. I held his hand. I, uh, I was a familiar face to him. When these people that were possessed die, they always fall into the void, and only sometimes will they ever escape and go to heaven or hell. I think your father went to heaven.”_ _

__“Funny,” Ryan commented. “Never really believed in either.”_ _

__“You’ve got to pray to someone,” was all Mikey said. “We’ll both steal some of Gee’s clothes. Hopefully he’s done his laundry in at least the past year.”_ _

__“I’ll be there in a few moments,” Ryan said. “I promise there won’t be a mark on me.” Except for what he’d already done, of course. “Just need a few moments to myself. But I’ll be there for dinner, and I also promise I won’t be naked.”_ _

__Mikey nodded and left Ryan alone. He was going to return Ryan’s trust in him with a little trust of his own._ _

__. . ._ _

__“Where’d you go today?” Gerard asked in a whisper to avoid waking Ryan, who was asleep beside him._ _

__“Since when did you like boys?” Mikey asked, unsubtly avoiding the question. “I mean, Frank’s cute and all. He’s not my type, of course, way too short, but I can see the appeal. It’s just a little weird. You were obsessed with boobs before I fell asleep.”_ _

__“Boobs are still really nice,” Gerard said. “I freaking love a good pair of boobs. Girls are hot, Mikey, you would know that if you weren’t so gay.” Mikey smiled at the teasing. “I don’t really know,” Gerard continued. “Frank’s just… someone to admire. He’s brave and smart and loyal and really fucking cute. He’s also pretty funny. I think about kissing him a lot and I like imagining what it would be like to have sex with him, though I’m pretty iffy on how gay people have sex. You can help with that, right Mr. Toro?”_ _

___this complacency sickens me_ _ _

__Mikey hit Gerard’s chest with little strength. “Shut up, ass,” he chuckled, not really addressing Gerard. “Ray’s not… You heard Frank. He’s got a girlfriend.”_ _

__“I don’t know anything about this girlfriend.”_ _

__“Because you threw your nose into books instead of the lives of your friends,” Mikey replied. He rested his head on Gerard’s chest, still plastered to his brother’s side. He really was a leech for his brother’s attention. They’d never had much of a father, and their mom was mostly detached to the point of neglect. Gerard had been his parent and brother and best friend. Mikey felt like he deserved to be clingy. “I’m sad you abandoned them like that… especially Ryan. A lot went wrong for him.”_ _

__“I know,” Gerard mumbled. “I’ll always be sorry. But I’m back now. And I don’t intend on leaving any of our friends behind again… Where did you go today, Mikey?”_ _

__Mikey pursed his lips. “A lot has happened to me,” he began carefully. “A lot that I don’t understand. And I don’t feel comfortable telling you everything until I do understand. So I’m sorry to ask this, but please be patient. I’ll tell you what I can, when I can. But there’s no reason to be, uh…” He forgot the word._ _

__“Worried?” Gerard supplied helpfully. “Distressed? Concerned?”_ _

__“Backtrack to the first one,” Mikey chuckled. “The other two are a bit too big of words for me.”_ _

__“You don’t give yourself enough credit,” Gerard admonished. “… But you’re gonna be safe out there, right? You’re gonna be smart? I know it’s a lot to ask, but there’s some horrible things happening in this town. So please, Mikes, you gotta be safe out there. Above all else, take care of yourself.”_ _

__Mikey lifted his head. “Of course, Gee,” he promised, kissing Gerard’s cheek. He felt his brother smile and felt like a dork for loving his brother so much. “I’ll watch out for myself for you.”_ _

__. . ._ _

__The next morning, he went to the burnt remains of the original church and dropped below the floor like he’d been shown in the void. He saw the symbol on the wall and recognized it for a summoning ritual, one that required human sacrifice, at least ten people, all of them considered to be holy. More than god fearing catholics had burned alive in this church, so that was sacrifice enough. He knew this had been used to bring Lucal into the world. He wondered which body Lucal had ridden out of this disaster._ _

__“You’re here,” came a small voice. Mikey looked up at the ladder he had climbed down and saw a girl’s head peaking down over the entrance. Which was weird. He remembered helping this girl’s spirit cope with death in the void. He didn’t know many demons that returned to deceased vessels. “I’ve heard rumors, but I never believed it would be so soon.” She dropped into the cellar and smiled at Mikey, her pretty Sunday dress stained with dirt and possibly blood. “We’ve been awaiting you, Michael.” She added, “Amon,” after a beat._ _

___i do not recognize her_ _ _

__“Who are you?” Mikey asked._ _

__“Your brother and his friends named me,” she said. “I know my name of deeds, but that name is old and dry. Your brother called me Nobody. To be named by the brother of the fallen is a great honor. I bear my new name with pride.”_ _

__“Are you another groupie?” Mikey asked cautiously._ _

___you must not trust her— i can see what she is capable of she can turn your own mind against you you must not trust her you must not trust her you msutnottrustheryoumustnottrustheryoumustno—_ _ _

__“Amon says not to trust you,” Mikey told her._ _

__“Amon is a traitor at his roots,” Nobody said. “He’s been lying to you since the beginning.”_ _

___you need to run_ _ _

__“He’s told me you’ll kill the people I love.”_ _

__“Perhaps,” Nobody said. “We more than likely will. But what you have no taken into account is that fact that when the time to kill them comes, you may feel nothing but indifference for them. You may even be the one to sever their spinal cords.” She smiled, wide and ugly for a little girl. “You have to be excited, Michael. Everything you were born to do is finally about to happen.”_ _

___michael please run i cannot protect you from this_ _ _

__She did something with her wrist and Mikey’s eyes rolled into the back of his skull as she showed him something terrifying._ _

___He stood above Ryan, his foot sinking into the open gut of Ryan’s stomach. Ryan was looking up at him with empty eyes, soul long gone and somewhere else, probably with his father. Mikey looked around and recognized this as his own living room. He saw chunks of flesh hanging from the picture frames in the back corner and saw his mother slumped forward in her rocking chair with a shotgun barrel in her mouth. A sense of artificial disappointment forced itself over his mind, saying he should be sad that he hadn’t been the one to end her life._ _ _

___Mikey looked to his left hand, where he had a serrated kitchen knife, jagged and bloodstained. He was sure this was what he’d used to eviscerate Ryan. He looked to his right and saw he had his fingers wrapped around Gerard’s neck. Gerard was looking up at him, but he was still very alive and very afraid. Gerard’s lips were turning blue and he was scrabbling weakly at Mikey’s arm with bloody fingertips. Mikey saw that Gerard’s fingernails had been ripped out. He wondered where they were until he felt an uncomfortable, slow scrape of small objects traveling down his throat. Mikey’s stomach churned._ _ _

___“Mikey,” Gerard choked out, voice just a bare rasp, torn up and ragged. “Please. D-don’t.”_ _ _

___**come back to yourself michael** _ _ _

___Mikey watched his left arm swing around and bury the blade in Gerard’s stomach. Gerard’s eyes snapped wider and an awful gurgling sound came from him as blood bubbled from between his lips. Mikey's arm twisted the knife and he heard a suction noise as something was severed inside Gerard’s body. His brother went slack in his grip and Mikey knew he was dead._ _ _

___**this is not you** _ _ _

___Faceless figures approached with empty faces that weren’t important enough for Mikey to analyze. All he saw was Ray being held up by them, slung between their bodies, alive, but in pain. There was blood running down the side of his face and one of his eyes had a slash going right down the middle, splitting his face and eyeball open with a clean cut._ _ _

___Ray lifted his head with great effort to look up at Mikey with defiance in his one eye. He was still beautiful to Mikey. He’d always thought Ray looked good in red._ _ _

___“We’ve brought you your prize,” one of the faceless figures said, sounding prideful, sounding like it was smiling. “He is yours to keep.” Mikey couldn’t deny that out of everything he had been shown in the span of these few seconds, the idea finally having Ray was the closest the demons had ever come to giving him a reason to fulfill their prophecy._ _ _

____do not give in to the temptation— you cannot make an unwilling person your property_ _ _ _

___“He’ll never love me otherwise,” Mikey mumbled, sounding like he was underwater. It was how he’d sounded in the void, whenever he’d been brave enough to speak aloud. “This is the only way…”_ _ _

___**better without him than the one he fears** _ _ _

___Mikey shut his eyes and knew Amon was right. He clenched his fist, then looked up at the ceiling and pictured the girl with the ugly, evil smile. “Leave my head,” he ordered firmly, knowing she would listen. There wasn’t a moment of hesitation before she withdrew_ and Mikey was back in the cellar of the church, no worse for ware, only a little sore in his fingertips from where he’d been strangling his brother. A shudder ran through him, but he stood his ground and stared down the girl, whose smile faltered._ _

__“I will not hurt my friends,” Mikey said. “Especially not my brother.”_ _

__“But don’t you see?” she pleaded. “You won’t care! They will mean nothing to you as your powers grow. Your abilities are nothing now, but with us, with your kin at your side, we can nurture your abilities into monumental displays of chaos and apocalypse.”_ _

__“Fuck that,” Mikey snapped. She reared back like she’d been slapped by Mikey’s words. “I don’t want to buy the shit you’re selling, you hear me? Regardless of who you believe I’m meant to be, I will never, ever hurt my brother. And you were stupid to think any of you could ever convince me to do so.” He squared his shoulders and tried to project calmness and courage, two emotions he definitely was lacking in that small cellar, trapped with a demon that could literally rape his mind if she wanted. “Tell Lucal that the downside of having a human antichrist is the free will I have that all of you soulless zombies lack.”_ _

__He approached her, standing to his full height, feeling something like energy surge in the veins of his wrists. The world was becoming tinged with red. He wondered what his eyes looked like. “Consider this a declaration of war,” he growled. “And I’m not on your side.” He jerked his chin to the ceiling of the cellar. “Now get out of my sight.”_ _

__She withered under the darkness in his voice, evil still somehow scared of higher evil, and disappeared before his eyes. Mikey’s shoulders slumped and the confidence fled his body like bloodletting._ _

___you did well,_ Amon congratulated. _though you deny your namesake you are still their greatest threat do not underestimate what you are capable of even outside their ranks__ _

__Mikey took in a deep breath and nodded. “Time to fill Gee in.”_ _

__. . ._ _

__“Mikey, you’re home!”_ _

__Mikey felt a little sad at how surprised Gerard always sounded when he saw Mikey walk through the door of their home. Gerard was standing in the middle of the kitchen with Ryan and Frank, all of them looking like they were deep in some important discussion. At first, Mikey felt a little out of the loop, like he wasn’t meant to be included in their group. Then he remembered he was the fucking antichrist and already privy to way more secretive bullshit than they ever had been._ _

__“I have something important to tell all of you.”_ _

__“How important?” Ryan asked, still looking way worse for wear._ _

__“Apocalyptically,” Mikey admitted._ _

__Gerard let out this high pitched, tired whine of panic, and Mikey felt sorry for him. But he was doing this for Gerard, after all. He had to ensure the survival oft he people he cared about. Also the world, but they were kinda secondary. He didn’t know their plans for him, but he knew the antichrist was a default “end of the world” scenario. It didn’t take a genius to gleam the gist of the plan._ _

__“There’s something important about me that you guys should know,” Mikey hedged. “But you gotta understand that I chose this side. You guys. I chose humanity and saving the world from me and stuff, so please, when I tell you all of this, do not start pulling out weapons and talking about containment procedures, okay? I chose my brother. And I chose my friend.” He then glanced to Frank. “I don’t know you, though, my bad. I’m totally cool with saving you too.” Frank snorted something that sounded like a laugh._ _

__“I’m the antichrist,” Mikey barreled, figuring suspense was pointless. Frank and Ryan both looked like they’d start laughing, which meant they probably didn’t believe him. “I was possessed by a demon named Amon who was supposed to get my body ready to have demon powers and shit, but he ended up realizing the end of the world was bad for him too and he put me into the coma so none of the demons could use me as their antichrist. But I woke myself up against his wishes, and now the demons are basically celebrating my arrival and expecting me to lead them into battle.”_ _

__“This is ridiculous,” Ryan deadpanned. “You’re not the antichrist.”_ _

__“You’re, like, the least antichrist-looking person I’ve ever seen,” Frank added. “You wear glasses and look like some emo kid. You’re not an antichrist.”_ _

__“They’ve literally told me,” Mikey defended, sounding a little grumpy. He didn’t like being doubted. “I went to the police station and saw all of them and they told me who I was. They’ve been saying the same stuff in my head while I was asleep, too! So fuck you guys, I’m totally the fucking antichrist, and you guys can just suck my dick.”_ _

__Frank scoffed, but Ryan was looking worriedly to Mikey’s brother. “Gee?”_ _

__Mikey looked to Gerard too and saw he was a parlor color and staring at Mikey in terror. Mikey’s stomach clenched painfully at the expression he was seeing. He’d never wanted Gerard to look at him like that._ _

__“In all my dreams,” Gerard said shakily. “I’ve drowned. You’ll stand above me, above the water— I can see you, you’re always looking down at me and you’re literally watching me drown. The sky keeps raining and the water I’m in gets deeper and deeper with the more rain that falls and you keep watching me drown, and your eyes… They’re red. And glowing. And there’s blood staining your lips and skin and nails. You look evil in my dreams, Mikey. They call the False Messiah and say you’ll wake up soon. And now… now you have. The Prince, the beast, the man of sin? I’ve been reading about them for years and it’s all you.” Gerard shook his head. “Angel of the bottomless Pit…”_ _

__“I know you think I’m evil,” Mikey said. “I think I’m pretty fucking evil, even though the only evil thing I’ve done in my life was while being fucking possessed. None of this is something I chose, Gee. None of this is what I want. And instead of turning tail and running, I’m standing up to them.” Mikey looked between the three other boys, beseeching for them to believe him. Ryan was startling to look like he believed the antichrist part, and not the part about Mikey being a good guy. Frank still looked like he thought all of this was bullshit. “I’m not gonna hurt any of you,” he swore._ _

__“Is he still in there?” Ryan asked stiffly. When Mikey made face of question, Ryan shook his head. “You said you went into a fucking demon induced coma, Mikey, and was kept there. Is he still in there? Is he still in your head?”_ _

__“Amon?” Ryan nodded. Mikey winced. “I mean, yeah. He’s pretty quiet. He’s tired, see.”_ _

__“Jesus,” Gerard whimpered, a hand coming up to cover his mouth. “How do we even know it’s you? How do we know that we’re taking to my brother? We could be talking to that fucking thing, masquerading and using your body as a costume. How do I know it’s you?”_ _

__Mikey was hurt. “You know me, Gee…”_ _

__“Do I?” Gerard shot back. But he quickly took it back when he saw how much he had wounded his brother. “Fuck, you’re right, I do,” Gerard amended quickly. “You’re my brother, Mikey, I know you’re my brother, I’ve always known, just like I knew it wasn’t you back then.” Gerard reached out like he wanted to hug Mikey, but aborted the gesture and held back. That hurt a little more than the words. Mikey watched his brother with a tortured expression, wishing he could scream that he’d done this for Gerard. He could’ve just given up and killed himself or something from the beginning._ _

___maybe you still should_ _ _

__Mikey flinched and clenched his hands into fists. Gerard’s eyes went a little wider. “Did he say something?” Ryan asked. “What did he say?” Mikey just shook his head. He didn’t like to think about most of the things Amon said to him. “Did he say something about all of this?” Ryan pressed. “Or… Was it something bad to you?”_ _

__“Bad to me,” was all Mikey said._ _

__Ryan nodded. “Alright. So. What blocks him out?” Mikey looked up with a confused frown. “There’s gotta be something that makes him harder to hear, right? Maybe we could get a hearing aid, but, like, reverse engineer it and make it play white noise or something. Or we can just get regular headphones. What about one of those headsets from Kurt Vonnegut’s _Harrison Bergeron?_ We won’t do the beeps to handicap you, but we can drown that guy out or something.”_ _

__“Or exorcise him,” Frank suggested._ _

__“My heart will stop,” Mikey sighed. “That’s what he told me. That’s what’s happened to everyone who’s been possessed and then freed through exorcism.”_ _

__“That’s not really accurate,” Ryan said, crossing his arms over his chest and visibly thinking. “Josh Dun.”_ _

__“Josh dun?” Mikey repeated. “His uncle is in charge of the demon army thing we have in town.”_ _

__“Demon army, what the fuck,” Frank groaned._ _

__“Josh was possessed, we exorcised him, he survived,” Ryan summarized. “You might not have a heart attack, you might be perfectly okay. I don’t think we should do it, of course, I don’t think it’s worth the risk as of now, and I’m not sure it’ll never be, but I’m saying it’s not a definite. If worse comes to worse, and it’s life or death? Maybe death won’t be a guarantee.”_ _

__“Amon told me I would die,” Mikey sighed. “I’m gonna listen to the guy on my shoulder who’s holding the blade to my throat.”_ _

__“Fuck,” Gerard choked out, looking for all the world like he thought he had failed someone or something. “Mikey, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I was supposed to walk you home from school that dad, but I was so fucking selfish. I’m so sorry. I should’ve ditched art club and walked you home like a good brother. If I had just done that, then you wouldn’t have been possessed, right? You would’ve been okay. The fucking world wouldn’t be fucking ending.” Frank looked shocked at Gerard’s confession, jaw dropping open as he looked to his boyfriend with aching sympathy._ _

__“It doesn't matter anymore,” Mikey said. “I’m here now, and what’s happened to me can’t be changed. But you believe me, right? That I won’t hurt any of you guys. I’ve chosen you all and declared war on these assholes.”_ _

__Ryan snorted a laugh, looking a little proud. “That’s what I said.” The proud grin on Ryan’s face was a fleeting comfort to Mikey, as all he could remember on Ryan’s face was the hollow look he had as his skin burned. “I declared war too,” Ryan said. “So I guess that means that, by default, whether we’re comfortable with working with the antichrist or not, we gotta. Cause we’re on the same side.” He looked between Gerard and Frank. “Of course, I’m on the trusting side. He’s been awake over twenty-four hours, and no chairs have hit the walls. Antichrist or not, he’s chill. I trust him.” He reached out and pat Mikey’s shoulder. “Who knows? Maybe they’re just saying shit to freak you out.”_ _

__“Pretty sure existing in the void made me something a little less than human, regardless,” Mikey admitted. Ryan’s expression became sincerely concerned._ _

__“You’re home now,” he told Mikey. “You’re out, uh, wherever that was. So just don’t think about it, okay? Compartmentalize.”_ _

__“Is that what you do?” Mikey asked curiously. “You’ve gone through more hell than the other two, yet you’re totally okay. But not in a gradual way. It’s like, one second you’re dying, the next you’re fine. You just shove everything into a corner, don’t you? A filing cabinet. And then you just say the keys to it never existed in the first place.” Mikey looked deeply into Ryan’s eyes, trying to find a trace of the emotion he was looking for. He didn’t exactly want Ryan to be vulnerable, he just wanted Ryan to know he was trying to understand. “You should teach me sometime,” he added. “Just cause.”_ _

__“I’d rather not put this on anyone else,” Ryan replied stiffly._ _

__“That’s bullshit,” Frank interrupted. “Jesus christ. So we’re all just accepting Mikey’s the antichrist? Even though it doesn’t follow any of the original predictions that are needed to be labelled the antichrist?”_ _

__“It’s twenty sixteen, you ass,” Ryan snorted. “Get with the times.”_ _

__“Fuck you, Ryan,” Frank shot back._ _

__“Are you still gonna be home in time for dinner?” Gerard asked. Everyone looked to him with bewildered expressions, and Mikey would’ve wanted to laugh if Gerard hadn’t been looking so freaking sad and unsure of himself._ _

__“I’ll be home,” Mikey promised. “I will. I just have to handle a few things, okay? And none of you should go anywhere near the church, okay? Both of them.”_ _

__“Too late for the first one,” Ryan grumbled._ _

__“What?” Frank frowned. “Ray’s probably at the church.”_ _

__Mikey’s heart lurched into his throat at the name, and only saw Ray being held up between two bodies, bloody and beaten and about to become Mikey’s fucking slave. “He can’t stay there,” Mikey croaked. “The church isn’t what it should be and I have no idea why, but he isn’t safe there. None of you are really safe anywhere, you have to understand. They’ve got this entire fucking town under their thumbs.”_ _

__“That’s reassuring,” Ryan sighed. “Wish we had a bunker or something. A clubhouse.”_ _

__“You can’t trust Josh Dun,” Mikey added. Ryan suddenly looked offended with an undertone of distress. “His uncle is the guy in charge of all of this, I think, aside from Lucal.”_ _

__“Lucal?” Gerard looked frantic again. “How do you know that name?”_ _

__Mikey shrugged. “They kept saying it. Especially a girl named Nobody.”_ _

__“Nobody?” Now Frank was looking freaked out. “Dude, what the fuck? She’s dead.”_ _

__“She was possessing a corpse, if that helps,” Mikey sighed._ _

__“They can do that?” Ryan asked._ _

__“They can do anything, guys.” Mikey grimaced. “They can basically do fucking anything. You gotta understand that. There are no lines they won’t cross, no limits they won’t breach. There is literally nothing they won’t do to get their way. They would kill babies without a thought. And they’d definitely kill you.”_ _

__“We kinda got that after they tried to kill us,” Ryan sighed. “Look, I’m trusting Josh Dun, got it? Cause Josh Dun.”_ _

__“Josh is Ryan’s crush,” Gerard explained._ _

__“What?” Ryan scowled. “No he isn’t.”_ _

__Gerard just shrugged and struggled to look innocent through the stress that was showing in his eyes. “I’m trying to be lighthearted, Ryan. Take one for the team?”_ _

__“Josh is willing to fucking die for you, anyways,” Frank sighed. “It’d be cruel to turn him down, right? Or at least ignore his affections. He’s so fucking done for you, it’s fucking dumb. I can’t stand that shit. He’s perfectly willing to die in terrible ways and give up on life entirely. You should at least throw the guy a bone.”_ _

__Ryan just looked away._ _

__“Ry,” Gerard pleaded gently. “He kissed you.”_ _

__“We need to find Ray,” Ryan interrupted. “Like we were talking about before Mikey came out.” Mikey snorted at the joke. “I say we split up and search. Except don’t go to the church, even though that’s probably where he is.” Ryan looked annoyed by that._ _

__“I’ll go to the church,” Mikey volunteered. “They won’t kill me yet. They probably think they can convince me to still join them or whatever. Which they can’t!” he clarified. “They totally can’t. I’m one hundred percent with you guys.” He nodded to himself. “I’m gonna go to the church. See ya’ll for dinner?”_ _

__“Hope you don’t find him,” Frank said. “He seems like he’s terrified of you.”_ _

__“He’ll have to suck it up,” Gerard said firmly. “Ray’s a big boy. He can face an old flame or two.”_ _

__Mikey just nodded, not wanting to talk about it._ _

___almost causes you to wish you had accepted Nobody’s offer…_ _ _

__Mikey clenched his jaw. He didn’t understand what Amon wanted from him half the time. “Be back in time for dinner,” was all he said as he left the room._ _

__. . ._ _

__He walked to the church and was aware of eyes on him from everywhere. A car drove past— a huge black SUV with tinted windows. It approached him slowly, crawled past even slower, then zoomed away. Mikey would’ve been intimidated if he hadn’t found the lame ass drive by so fucking hilarious. He was indifferent to any intimidation techniques these demons could use. He’d seen scarier shit from one of Gerard’s attempts at making scrambled eggs. He eyed the shadows and the car and nodded cooly, taking a sense of satisfaction over how he didn’t give anything away. He felt like he was a sort of godlike figure for them. He took pride in knowing that he wasn’t going to live up to what they wanted him to be._ _

__The church was still standing despite the dark smoke from the other day. He wondered over how he was able to walk across the ground even though the antichrist probably shouldn’t be able to walk towards and eventually into a church. He wondered if it meant he was more human than they’d initially planned. Amon hadn’t exactly been “priming” his body all those years like he’d been expected to. Hell, maybe even the whole antichrist thing was reversible. Maybe he just needed a full blood transfusion and become a completely different person in seven years when all his cells replaced themselves._ _

___maybe you can sacrifice eight oxen and wave hoodoo dust over your head before hiding from everything and pretending you are cured_ _ _

__“Shut the fuck up,” Mikey huffed, stopping at the top of the steps. He didn’t want to have a conversation with Amon inside a fucking church, that was just too messed up. “Whatever you’ve got to say to me, say it now. I’m not listening to a word you say once I find Ray.”_ _

___you are too focused with the defiler_ _ _

__“Who the fuck is the defiler?” Mikey asked, scrunching his nose. “What kind of dick name is that to give someone?”_ _

___your romantic interest is known as the defiler for what he did to you and your body when you were young_ _ _

__Mikey made an even more bewildered face. “Are you demons fucking dumb?” It was odd to think they had moral standings on the age of sexual consent._ _

___most are unoriginal and very unintuitive i will admit_ _ _

__“Ray’s an old friend,” Mikey huffed. “I haven’t see him in years, and when I come back, he’s suddenly roped up into all these demon shit that is inherently my fault by association. Now I hear you guys are calling him all these horrible things— you have no idea what kind of emotional damage you could be doing to him.”_ _

___we are agents of darkness michael emotional damage is usually intentional_ _ _

__“He’s my friend,” Mikey stressed. “I won’t have you call him that around me. Got it?”_ _

__When Amon was silent, Mikey clenched his fist and twisted his mind. In the void, he’d learned he could manipulate at least his head and forced words from Amon, like being really persuasive or being really good at torture; it seemed to depend on the situation. “Do you understand me?” Mikey pressed, envisioning red and pain, like when he had pulled the nails from Gerard’s fingers in Nobody’s vision._ _

___i will call him only what you wish_ _ _

__“Ray,” Mikey said firmly. “His name is Ray.”_ _

___Ray,_ Amon repeated. He said nothing more, but Mikey was satisfied. He had gotten his way. It was sometimes nice to have control over the monster that had ruined his life and made him kill his friend. Mikey took in a long break to steady himself before pushing open the doors of the church and stepping inside._ _

__Ray looked up from the alter, and then visibly stiffened. He stared at Mikey, shoulders hunched to his ears, looking as skittish as an alley cat. Despite Ray’s body, language, Mikey’s heart did something stupid enough to make him realize that, girlfriend or no girlfriend, in denial or not, Mikey still wanted this giant doofus. Mikey realized he was smiling and felt like an idiot in love, which he probably kinda was._ _

___you are too human to be of use when you see him_ _ _

__Mikey ignored that asshole and started to walk down the aisle, approaching Ray. He didn’t say anything at first because he was worried opening his mouth would make Ray drop and run away. Ray was watching him like he wanted to run away regardless._ _

__“I’ve missed you,” Mikey murmured once he was within earshot. “I, uh… Dreamed about you a lot.” He hadn’t told Ray about the void yet. Hell, Ray still thought he was normal. This was the first time Mikey had seen Ray in three years, and vince versa. “I remember being comforted by your face,” Mikey continued. “I remember feeling safe, even with everything that was happening to me. You were my saving grace, Ray. You really kept my sane.”_ _

__“I did none of that,” Ray told him stiffly, taking a step back. But he didn’t go any further as Mikey got close enough to see the details of Ray’s face. He looked older, but in a loving way. There were a few wrinkles around the corners of his eyes and his hair was longer and a bit thicker. He looked a lot more built, too, which Mikey definitely enjoyed in a way that wasn’t appropriate between two men at a church._ _

__“You did more for me than you could ever understand,” Mikey confessed, voice dropping a pitch. He stared up at Ray, still on the bottom steps of the alter, and felt like he was paying offering to Ray. The man had saved him in the void. Been a voice of reason and personal desire. He’d thought of Gerard when he needed a reason to fight beyond himself. But he’d thought of Ray when he needed the courage to fight at all. Mikey let out a breath and gave in, reaching out, wanting to feel Ray’s skin and warmth._ _

__Fuck, Ray didn’t pull away, either. When Mikey took Ray’s huge hand in his own, Ray didn’t pull back, didn’t even look disgusted like Frank had set him up to be. Mikey felt relief and wanted to go the extra mile, wanted to climb the steps, go up on his toes, and kiss the older man. Mikey looked up into Ray’s eyes, stared into those fucking beautiful irises, and smiled tentatively._ _

__Ray visibly shuddered. “I have a girlfriend…”_ _

__Mikey’s smile dropped. He tried to let go of Ray’s hand, but Ray squeezed a little tighter. Mikey was confused and hoped it showed on his face._ _

__“I tried to let you go,” Ray choked out. “I tried to move on. You were as good as dead, Mikey, and I couldn’t keep living while being in love with a ghost. I had to try, Mikey, and I’m so sorry. Gerard had been right. You weren’t gone. I doubted you and went to someone else, but she wasn’t anything compared to you. She’s nothing compared to what you mean to me, and I know that makes me a terrible person, but I’ve lived these three years trying to be nothing but good, and look where that’s gotten me. So I’m going to be selfish. I’m going to do what’s wrong. I-I’m going to live up to the name and become the defiler.”_ _

__Mikey bristled. “You’re not a—”_ _

__Ray shook his head and bent down at the waist, sealing their lips together and pushing Mikey back as he stumbled down the stairs to get closer to Mikey. His hands came down and wrapped around Mikey’s thighs, lifting him up and carrying him to the pews. Mikey wrapped his arms around Ray’s neck and held on tight, pulling away from the kiss to look around with wild eyes. “Fucking fuck, don’t you fucking drop me,” Mikey choked out, wrapping his legs around Ray’s waist as well. Ray laughed breathlessly and pressed his nose to Mikey’s skin, kissing along his neck._ _

__“I’ve gotten a little stronger since I last held you,” Ray murmured into Mikey’s skin, moving to one of the front pews and gently setting Mikey down. He tried to pull back, but Mikey didn’t loosen his legs. He grinned defiantly up at Ray, refusing to let him go anywhere, intoxicated by the warmth of Ray’s body and the tightness in his chest. He bit his lip, confidence failing as Ray looked down at him with dark eyes. “What do you want, Mikey?” Ray asked in a low voice, hands coming down to rub up and down Mikey’s thighs, going higher and deeper with each upstroke. Mikey shuddered._ _

__“Whatever you think I’m deserving of,” he said, eyes widening a little as Ray’s expression became more intense. “Fuck, Ray, don’t look at me like that.”_ _

__“You’re so fucking gorgeous,” Ray breathed, slipping his huge palms under and up Mikey’s shirt. His fingers were cold and Mikey shook, shutting his eyes because Ray’s gaze was just too much for his heart to handle. The touch to his chest was like dry ice, cold enough to burn and make Mikey hyperaware of every inch of skin Ray had touched. Then Ray pushed Mikey’s arms up and pulled off Mikey’s shirt._ _

__“Fuck, wait,” Mikey choked off when the shirt was stuck on his ears and shoulder. “Wait, wait, wait.”_ _

__“What’s wrong?” Ray asked, though he kept tugging, apparently refusing to fucking wait._ _

__“I’m so fucking skinny.” Mikey hadn’t given it much thought, but he’d felt skinnier after waking up, even more so than he’d been before. He had to be fucking emaciated now after three years of living off of fluids. He had a hard time finding a comfortable position when sitting or lying down and he was always hungry, so hungry, but his stomach couldn't handle too much food regardless. His hips were basically weapons and his ribs were easier to count than the Count’s spiderwebs. “I have to look bad, Ray, maybe we should leave the shirt on?”_ _

__“Wanna see you,” Ray argued petulantly. He let out a cry of triumph when he successfully wrangled the shirt off from over Mikey’s head. Mikey watched him carefully, but Ray didn’t even hesitate. He just dove in and sealed his lips over Mikey’s heartbeat, rubbing his palms up and down Mikey’s bare, sensitive sides, and Mikey just kept fucking shaking. Ray was touching all this skin that hadn’t been touched in ages and his brain was stuttering along with his breath. He vague remembered the demon asking him if he’d experienced any seizures. Then the hands were at the front of Mikey’s jeans._ _

__“No, wait,” he said again, wincing. Ray pulled back from his skin with a patient smile that made Mikey’s eyes feel too dry. “I just… You gotta match me. Like, I take something off, then you take something off, then me, then you, and so on, you know? Or else I’ll get really skittish and probably do something to embarrass myself.”_ _

__Ray smirked, but didn’t say anything. He just sat back, though not by much because Mikey still wouldn’t let him go, and tugged off his own shirt, tossing it aside with all the nonchalance a man who looked as good as Ray deserved. Mikey’s mouth literally watered as he stared at Ray’s body, his cut shoulders and his toned chest and stomach. He reached out and placed his palms against Ray’s pectorals, marveling at how small they made his own hands look. Ray hummed and leaned into the touch, watching Mikey’s face. They’d done this before, had stripped and touched and brought each other pleasure, but Ray was looking like a different person, and Mikey was sure his skinny body was new for Ray too._ _

__“I wanna make you feel good,” Ray said, still just watching Mikey watch him. “Can I?’_ _

__“Fuck yeah you can,” Mikey breathed. Why would he argue that?_ _

__“Can I fuck you, Mikey?”_ _

__Mikey tensed, tearing his eyes from Ray’s chest to meet his heated gaze. He bit his lip and nodded, feeling a little shy. They may have done a lot, but they’d never done _that._ Ray had always turned him down no matter how much he’d begged. Now Ray was offering. _ _

__“Believe it or not,” Ray chuckled. “I have a few things in the back. Things we’re gonna need. Do you think you could unlock those gorgeous legs for me and let me go grab them?”_ _

__“Go for it,” Mikey said, slowly unhooking his ankles. Ray kissed Mikey sweetly before pulling back and walking briskly to the back room. Mikey was in awe of how even Ray’s fucking shoulder blades looked like sex. Not to mention his ass. When Ray disappeared into the back room, Mikey was left aware of Mother Mary staring down at him from the alter. He stared back, rebellion filling his chest. God and his mother hadn’t done anything to save him. They could watch him fuck a man for all he cared. At least Mikey loved Ray way more than God had ever truly loved his creations._ _

___your cynicism is well earned_ _ _

__“What’re you thinking about?” Ray asked, suddenly less than a foot from Mikey with a tube and a foil package in his hands. Ray dropped down to kiss Mikey again, and all thoughts of an absent god fled his mind. Mikey pulled back to look to the foil and snickered like a child when he realized it was a condom. “Believe it or not, I did become a responsible adult,” Ray chided playfully._ _

__“You sure you don’t wanna just cum in my ass?” Mikey challenged with a haughty smirk. Ray’s eyes went dark again and Mikey regretted taunting him. Ray grabbed Mikey’s hips, hooking his hands in the loops of Mikey’s jeans, and tore them from his legs, fucking up the zipper he hadn’t bothered with and shoving the pants away. Mikey’s breath caught and his legs snapped shut on reflex in being exposed, though Ray wasn’t perturbed._ _

__“Can I get these off you too?” Ray asked, eyeing Mikey’s underwear, the black boxers Ryan had stolen from Gerard for him. “You looked amazing in everything you wear, but I’d like to see you in a little less, yeah?” Mikey nodded and Ray grinned, tugging down the final piece of clothing. “Fuck, I’ve missed you,” Ray sighed, staring at Mikey’s dick like it could answer him, which was weird, but Mikey wasn’t complaining. The way Ray was looking at him more than made up for how grotesquely skinny Mikey felt._ _

__“One day, I’ll do something crazy to make you mine for real and make up for the way I gave up these past three years,” Ray murmured, hot breath ghosting Mikey’s hard cock. Mikey whined and tried to lift his hips, needing Ray to do something, but Ray just held his hips down with his huge hands that were honestly starting to become a problem for Mikey’s self control. “For now? I’ll probably just blow your brains out. Sound like a fair trade?”_ _

__“Do something before I give up on waiting and just take care of it myself,” Mikey pushed. Ray laughed, loud and beautiful, and kissed Mikey again, murmuring something about love. Then he bent his head, and his hair obscured Mikey’s view, but he felt that wet heat and the size of Ray’s hair wasn’t so funny in the moment like it usually would be. Ray moaned softly around his cock, bobbing his head, and Mikey had to stop looking because the hair bobbing was a bit too funny, and he really, really liked how Ray’s mouth felt._ _

__Mikey moaned and tried to cant his hips forward, but that only made Ray push down even harder. Mikey choked on a sound of pleasure as the dull ache of forming bruises made the pleasure all the more intense. He just barely heard the pop of a cap over the sound of his own panting. He had to shut his eyes and keep from staring down Mother Mary, finding a sick pleasure in having a holy audience, an audience that he wanted to spite with all this fucking sin. Then one of Ray’s hands was gone from his hips and beneath his bony ass, and Mikey yelped at the cool touch of a wet fingertip to his entrance._ _

__“Fuck, already?” he wheezed out, only because he needed to say something so he wouldn’t let out anymore embarrassing noises. “The stuff, did you…”_ _

__Ray hummed and Mikey moaned again, thighs trembling around Ray’s ears. Even Ray’s fingers were huge— the press of a single, slippery digit was enough to create a burn Mikey’s own explorative prodding had never elicited. But it didn’t hurt, barely even made Mikey wince. Ray’s single finger slid in and out of his body. “Does it feel good inside?” he asked breathlessly, needing to know. “Fuck, Ray, y-your mouth is amazing, please…”_ _

__Ray was probably smiling or something by now, Mikey couldn’t tell. Then there was a second finger pressing past the tight muscle and Mikey whimpered, clenching his hands into fists to try and force himself to stop tensing. Ray pulled off his cock and kissed the top of Mikey’s bruises hip. “Relax,” he murmured, watching Mikey affectionately. “Think you need more lube?”_ _

__Mikey shook his head. He loved the drag of Ray’s fingertips._ _

__“I’m gonna need to fit in at least two more,” Ray warned, fucking Mikey slowly with the two fingers. “Not to brag or anything, but I’m definitely bigger than three.” When Mikey laughed, Ray beamed, like he was proud of himself. “Trust me, Mikes?”_ _

__“With my life,” Mikey gasped, rocking down on the fingers experimentally. He whined in the back of his throat as it really started to feel like delicious fire filling his veins. His thighs were still shaking and so were his hands. He reached up and tangled his hands in Ray’s hair to steady himself._ _

__“I love you,” Ray breathed, sliding in a third. Mikey winced but forced himself to relax, leaning in to kiss Ray as he kept his rhythm, rocking down on the fingers and showing Ray he wanted to keep going. Ray moaned into the kiss and pet Mikey’s side with his free hand. The fourth finger went in a while after, and Ray starting finger fucking Mikey with a purpose, driving his twisted fingers in and out, pulling away from the kiss to purse his lips in concentration as he searched for something._ _

__Mikey wanted to giggle, because Ray looked cute when he was concentrating, but cut himself off when Ray’s fingers rammed into a spot of nerves Mikey had only tentatively brushed when he was younger. Mikey’s hips arched helplessly off the pew, eyes wild as he fucked himself on Ray’s fingers, trying to get him to hit that spot again. Ray grinned, letting Mikey bounce on his fingers a little longer, before pulling his fingers away and wiping them clean on his pants. Mikey whined a protest._ _

__“You want fingers or the real thing?” Ray asked with a smirk._ _

__“I just want fucking something, come on!” Mikey cried out, tugging at Ray’s hair. “Ray, please, please, I’ll do anything, just help me out here.”_ _

__Ray laughed and pinched one of Mikey’s nipples, which made him jump. Then he took Mikey by the hips and thighs and turned him. Mikey let himself be manhandled into the position Ray wanted. He ended up on his back on the pew, his hips lifted into the air and rested on the elbow rest with Ray standing on the other side of the rest, his jean-clothed hips pressing against Mikey’s bare ass. The zipper was cold and Mikey shivered with anticipation. Ray stared down at him, eyes alight and black at the same time. Ray lowered the zipper, the cap popped again, and Mikey shut his eyes, wanting to focus on how this felt. The flutter in his stomach, the hitch in his breath, the way his cock throbbed. Fuck, he wanted this. He wanted this so badly._ _

__“Mikey,” Ray called out gently. “Look at me.”_ _

__Mikey opened his eyes, then opened his eyes wider when he saw Ray’s dick. It was a lot bigger than he remembered. Ray smiled affectionally at his expression and reached down to pump Mikey’s cock. Fuck, his dick looked so small in Ray’s hand and he loved it, he loved it so fucking that his dick spurted a bead of precum that slid between Ray’s fingers. Ray let out this noise and spread more precum over Mikey’s cock. He looked like he was intoxicated._ _

__“Ray, fuck me,” Mikey pleaded._ _

__Ray nodded and pulled his hand away, lubing up his cock as quickly as he could. Mikey squirmed and tried to find leverage with his hips, tried to get closer to Ray’s fucking huge dick, god, he needed that in him._ _

__“I love you, baby,” Ray murmured, splaying a hand out across Mikey’s stomach, making him look so small. More precum oozed down his shaft and Ray wouldn’t stop staring at it. Then Ray pressed the head of his cock into Mikey, going slowly and whiting out Mikey’s vision. He wasn’t sure how long it took Ray to bottom out— or get as far as Mikey’s body would allow— but he appreciated the steady pace. He felt the pain, the aching pain, for a few minutes, but it wasn’t awful. Ray was petting his stomach like an owner would pet their cat, and he was murmuring soft, soothing words Mikey couldn’t understand. He felt the world bleed from white to color as the pain finally subsided and looked down his body to see where he and Ray were connected. A moan bubbled from his lips and he felt like he would start crying if Ray didn’t do something._ _

__“Ray,” he gasped, shaking and trying to work his hips down with absolutely no leverage. “Move. For the love of god, move.”_ _

__Ray nodded, his expression strained, like holding back was nearly too much for him. He gripped Mikey’s hips, digging his thumbs and fingertips into the soft flesh, and slid out, then slammed inside. Mikey cried out, legs falling open, welcoming the next thrust. He found it harder and harder to breathe each time Ray’s cock slid back inside, hit that spot, made him scream some garbled mess of curse words that would offend literally anyone else listening. He was sadistically surprised Mother Mary wasn’t crying tears of blood from what she was seeing._ _

__“Oh god, Mikey,” Ray babbled, digging his fingers into Mikey’s thighs. “You’re so gorgeous. Look so fucking good like this, look so good on my cock. think you can cum like this?” Ray bent over, an incredible feat of flexibility. “Will you cum for me, baby? Make a mess of yourself for the world to see.”_ _

__Mikey keened and his eyes slid into the back of his head as Ray ground the hard head of his cock against Mikey’s prostate. Another hard thrust was all it took before Mikey’s muscles seized and he came with a cry, arching off the pew and shooting up his chest._ _

__Ray moaned raggedly and fucked Mikey harder, faster, until he came too, repeating Mikey’s name over and over with absolutely no self control._ _

__When he’d finally slowed through the aftershocks, and then pulled out, Mikey looked up at him with exhausted love in his eyes. “Thank you,” he breathed, feeling like it had to be said. Ray deserved to know Mikey appreciated this._ _

__Ray, though, shook his head and kissed Mikey again. “Anything for you.” He kissed Mikey lazily, just tasting him, and Mikey enjoyed it almost as much as he had enjoyed the fucking amazing sex. Ray eventually pulled back and wiped his brow with the back of his hand. “I gotta clean up,” he told Mikey. He reached down and lifted Mikey up with just a light grunt. “I’m gonna put you to bed, okay, baby? Then we can get some rest.”_ _

__“Gotta be home in time for dinner,” Mikey mumbled, tiredness finally seeping into his bones. Amon had been blissfully silent the whole time. He realized he hadn’t dropped the antichrist bomb on Ray yet, but knew he would have to eventually. Just not so soon after awesome sex. Ray lied him down on the cot and Mikey curled up in the sheets and fell asleep._ _

__. . ._ _

__When he woke up, light streamed into the room, and painted Ray’s bare skin gold. Ray was asleep beside him, peaceful and looking younger than ever. Mikey wondered what had woken him up when Amon started speaking again._ _

___they want your brother now not you ____ _

____Mikey shot up, sore muscles protesting, but he ignored them. He looked around for his clothes that Ray had neatly folded and lied beside the cot. Mikey got dressed in a rush, being loud and clumsy enough to wake Ray._ _ _ _

____“Are you trying to ditch me?” Ray asked, sounding heartbreakingly vulnerable. Mikey didn’t have time to placate his worries._ _ _ _

____“They’re going after Gee,” Mikey said. “I have to save my brother.”_ _ _ _

____“How do you know?” Ray asked._ _ _ _

____Mikey shook his head and threw Ray’s shirt at him. “Are you coming or not?”_ _ _ _

____Ray nodded and stood. He went to Mikey, took him by the arm to force him to still, and kissed him. “I’ll follow you anywhere,” Ray promised. “I’ll follow youth my death,” and Mikey didn’t doubt that for a second._ _ _ _


	14. Runs to Meet His Maker

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> necessary introduction

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> song rec: _"Sinister Kid" by the Black Keys"_

Frank remembered the look on Gerard’s face after hearing his fucking brother was some sort of antichrist. In all honestly, he didn’t believe in that shit. He hadn’t believed in the possessions, hadn’t believed in the demons, and he would remain stubborn and say he didn’t believe in an antichrist either. But fuck, was he a little afraid regardless. He had all this talk for not believing in things when he still was afraid of them. Like maybe if he denied their existence enough, he’d be a little less afraid. Like being held at gunpoint and closing your eyes, as if pretending the person holding the gun wasn’t there because you couldn’t see them.

Still, Gerard was worried. His brother was a small guy and it wasn’t like you could pretend Mikey could hold his own in any sort of fight when his arms and legs were literally sticks. The idea of Mikey leading an army of evil was laughable, and also horribly dangerous. Gerard had to be fearing the worst. He probably had awful images of Mikey walked to his death, whether it be at the hands of a human or another monster.

“He just went to the church,” Frank told Gerard, reaching down to hold his hand as they walked to Ryan’s old house. Originally Ryan had been the one to say he would head this way, but he’d changed his mind and said he’d wanted to find Josh. Frank thought that was a little hilarious considering his previously stubborn denials about wanting anything to do with Josh. “Mikey will be okay, Gee, you know that. Especially if he is what he says he is. They wouldn’t hurt him. They’d be stupid if they did.”

“He only just got back, and already he’s more wrapped up in this mess than I am,” Gerard choked out. “But fuck, does it explain a lot.”

After Mikey had left, Ryan had pointed out how Mikey’s confession had solved a few mysteries. First, the sleeping person they'd heard so much about in their nightmares was now, obviously, Mikey. Bringing about the end of the world was a very antichrist thing to do. Ryan also said it was a good thing the antichrist was Mikey, because Mikey was just so fucking obsessed with Gerard that there was no way he’d bring about a future that involved Gerard dying. Then there was the whole thing with Gerard’s exorcism abilities— it made sense that the brother of the antichrist would also have a hold over the demons, especially since the brothers were so close. He wondered if Gerard’s mom could do anything crazy, or if it would only extend to any kids Mikey could possibly have.

“You’re strong in a way that isn’t evil,” Frank told Gerard gently, back in the present as they walked. He knew Gerard was also worried about some lingering evil in his own veins. “You’re not the antichrist, just, apparently he’s your brother. It’s okay, Gee. You’re still good, through and through.”

“So is Mikey,” Gerard said firmly. “He’s fucking Mikey. I know him better than anyone else. And I know that he is the most good and wholesome and kind person you could ever meet. Even if he’s having trouble right now. I mean, he was asleep for so long. We have to give him time to adjust.”

Frank just shook his head. “… Are you cool with him knowing about us? Really?”

“Absolutely,” Gerard said firmly, turning his head to look at Frank. “I will never, ever be ashamed of this. You’re super cute, Frank.”

He snorted. “Wow, way to objectify me.”

“And so very brave,” Gerard continued softly. “You make me happy to try to be a better person. And you and I will grow to really love each other, I know we will. And you’re my partner in this nightmare, you’re a person I know I can trust, and you and I will fight together for as long as we can. If we break up, so be it, but I’m really, really hoping that we don’t.” Gerard smiled a bit. “You’re the first boy I’ve ever felt anything for. You’ve got to be extra special to pull me away from my preferred gender, you know? If that doesn’t sound to clinical.”

“Glad to know I made you gay,” Frank chuckled, actually a little warmed by the statement. He hadn’t ever been the person to make anyone else question their sexuality. It was a bit of an ego boost that he probably actually needed. Frank had very little self confidence. He couldn’t believe he’d made Gerard question and even pursue a new sexuality when he’d been pretty much straight as an arrow before. Holy crap, did he looked that good? Probably only sometimes.

“You’re so cute,” Gerard giggled, obviously having fun watching Frank’s thought process. “I just, I don’t know. I’m excited to try out new things with you. New sexy things.” He waggled his brow, looking ridiculous, and Frank was happy to see he was making an effort to cheer up despite all this awful shit. 

“Your brother won’t betray you,” and Frank meant that. The devotion Mikey had had in his eyes when he’d looked at his older brother was almost creepy, but reassuring. He believed Mikey when he said he wouldn’t hurt Gerard. At least Gerard would survive the end of the world. Probably Ray, too, if Mikey wasn’t spiteful. Frank wouldn’t survive, though, Mikey had said he didn’t know him. Still. Gerard living was good enough for him these days. He wondered when he’d held the life of the creepy kid with the library of demon books above his own. Maybe he was already in love.

“Should we be a little more careful?” Gerard asked as they headed down the pathway that led to Ryan’s house. “I mean, we could be ambushed at any moment, right? Fuck, we totally didn’t bring any weapons.”

Frank shrugged. He eyed the top of the house and didn’t see anything wrong with it. “You’re technically a weapon. And it’s not like we don’t have legs. We can always bolt.”

Gerard was quiet and staring ahead.

Frank frowned and squeezed his hand for his attention. “Gee/ You there?”

Gerard stopped walking and pointed to the window. They were on the porch, so Frank couldn’t miss it.

There was a girl standing in the front living room window. She was dead. So obviously dead. Her skin was sallow and there was rot settling underneath her eyes. She was the girl who had died of a heart attack a few days ago, the girl they’d named Nobody. And she was watching them. She was wearing a smile and the corners of her mouth were actually beginning to tear, dark blood collecting but not oozing because her heart wasn’t beating. 

She waved at them. 

“Oh fuck,” Frank wheezed, fight or flight kicking in and definitely favoring flight. The front door swung open and Frank wanted to leave. But Gerard took a step forward and Frank cursed Gerard, cursed that fucking girl, and cursed himself for being loyal enough to know he was going to follow Gerard in no matter what. “Gee, this is such a bad idea,” he breathed, trying to tug Gerard back regardless.

“She was after my brother,” Gerard said. “I need to talk to her. Maybe she can answer some questions I have.”

“You can’t fucking talk to a demon,” Frank choked out, looking to him urgently. “She’s gonna try to fucking kill you! Look at her face, Gerard, she’s fucking dying and there is no fucking way I can be in the same room as her, not after what she did to my head.” Didn’t Gerard care about what she’d done to him last time?

“Then stay here,” Gerard said stiffly. “I need answers.”

Frank bit his lip as Gerard pulled his hand from Frank’s to enter the house, unhindered. He looked back to the window and saw the girl was gone. Nobody was probably waiting eagerly for Gerard to come inside with a knife and poison and evil stuff. Fuck, he couldn't let Gerard go in there alone. He followed Gerard and looked back down the path warily before Gerard opened the door and they went inside. 

The house was stuffy after a few days of being empty and unlit. Frank wanted to open a window or something. He looked down the ruined hall, the still-disgusting kitchen, and through the back doors into the charred backyard. Frank sighed and wished they’d managed to fix Ryan’s home before the world had gone to too much shit for them to have time to fix anything. 

“You made it.”

Frank and Gerard both look towards Ryan’s room, where the little girl was standing in the doorway. She was still smiling. 

“Did your brother tell you?” she asked.

“Yes,” Gerard responded. Oddly enough, her face fell. Frank assumed the demons didn’t count on Mikey actually telling them the truth. Frank was honestly a little surprised Mikey had told them too. He didn’t think he would’ve been able to tell the truth, especially not to his brother, if he had one. 

“Well, phooey,” she sighed. “Then why are you here?”

“I have questions,” Gerard said. “I want to know about Mikey. What this all means. If he’s going to get himself hurt.”

She frowned. The sides of her mouth still decayed. “Why would I answer any questions from you?” she asked with a simper. “I don’t want to help you. Helping you sounds like way too much work for me. Plus, you’re kinda the enemy? The only person we want to use is your brother. Though we may just want to kill you. And your friends.” She shrugged. “But I’m sure you’re not a huge threat. We’ll have your brother soon enough.”

“So he really did deny you guys,” Gerard murmured, sounding oddly happy. “He turned you down.”

She scowled. “He’s a human, it was expected. We will get him back.”

“You’re acting like you’re some scorned ex-girlfriend,” Frank observed, growing a pair. If they really did have the fucking antichrist on their side, he didn’t have much of a reason to be afraid. “Mikey’s not gonna just “come back,” like you’ve got a boombox and shitty flowers. Mikey’s got free will and shit, you can’t control him.”

“We will,” she said stubbornly, crossing her arms over her chest. Frank was half expecting her to start pouting. “We really, really will.”

“Is he some kind of superhero?” Gerard asked.

“I’m not answering your questions!” she snapped. She stomped her foot and the house got ten hours darker, all the light leaving the room. A rumbling filled the house, and every hair on Frank’s body stood on end. He looked to Gerard, who wasn’t looking at him, and prayed he would see Gerard’s face again sometime in his life as the darkness enveloped everything and he couldn’t even see his own limbs.

_He knew this._

_He knew where he was._

_He was falling again, dropping endlessly, the screaming and roaring whipping past his ears. He could have his limbs severed and he’d never notice. He could die like this and wouldn’t know._

_He hit the ground and sputtered, coughing up red dust and watching it float upwards into the blackness. Frank sat up. He knew exactly where he was. He’d only been in Aurora for a few months, he could recognize his own school without a hitch. He knew where he was, too. He was by the boy’s bathroom that was just beyond the stairs that led to the second level of the science building. Frank’s favorite water fountain was to his left, he could see it, but it was grimier then usual. The lights were also dimmer, and he could hear water dripping from somewhere far off. He looked down the hall, expecting only to see the doors to the various labs that were on this level. But he saw James, too._

_“Holy shit,” Frank breathed, looking up at his friend with wide eyes and a tentative smile. He wasn’t sure if this was real— which it probably wasn’t— but he was happy to see James. He missed talking to him. Missed his best friend. Boyfriend. Whatever they were. Frank hadn’t known. “James!” he called out excited, clambering to his feet. He started to walk towards James, but slowed as he noticed something was wrong. James was standing wrong. His back was to Frank, and his shoulders were hunched, but his head was tilted back, like he was staring at something above his head. His hands were dripping some sort of fluid._

_“James?” he called out again, a little more cautiously. James’ entire head twitched, and he stood straighter, head dropping down._

_“… Frankie?”_

_Frank felt a wash of relief and a sense of home at hearing James say his name. “Fuck, Jay, I’ve missed you so much,” he said, heading towards his friend again with a purpose. “I don’t know what the fuck is going on, but—”_

_James turned around and he had no eyes. Frank stopped short in his tracks. He looked down to James’ hands and saw he was holding his own fucking eyes between his fingers. James faced him._

_“Frankie?” James called out again, sounding so fucking scared. Frank had an unbidden flashback of the last time he’d heard his friend sound so afraid. He’d been pressed chest to chest with James in the back corner of a house neither of them knew well with throngs of random people around them. House parties in Jersey were loud and dark and no one could see them, which was why Frank hadn’t been afraid to corner James and kiss him, kiss his best friend like he’d been dying to do for months. Frank remembered the way James had shook beneath him, the way his lips had tentatively met his own, the way James had been visibly fighting with himself. He remembered how afraid James had sounded when he’d asked,_ “is this what you want? Really?” __

_Now James was bleeding from his eye sockets and calling out to Frank like he needed help. Frank needed to help him, had to fucking help James. He reached out and tried to pull the eyeballs from James’ hands, a fit of insanity befalling him and convincing him he could just put the eyes back in and James would be fine. He could fix this. He could fix James._

_“It’s gonna be okay,” he gasped, fingers slipping over the organs. He accidentally dropped one— they were so fucking hard to hold with all the blood and he was scared of getting his finger stuck in the pupil— and quickly picked it up, wiping it off on the front of his shirt and babbling words even he didn’t understand. As he looked back up to try and put the eye back inside, James’ hands shot out and wrapped around Frank’s neck._

_Frank’s eyes went wide and he dropped the eyeballs. James stepped forward and smashed one of the orbs beneath his shoe._

_“Jay,” Frank choked out, hands scrabbling at James’ wrists to try and get him to let go. He choked on air and spit and his vision started to blur and redden at the edges. He couldn’t breathe already. “James,” he rasped, voice cracking and barely audible. “Le’ go…” He dug his nails into James’ wrists, ready to tear skin and make him bleed. “James…”_

_The hands suddenly disappeared and Frank dropped to the floor. The linoleum hurt his hip and knees and he gasped for breath, sputtering, spit dripping from his lips. He could barely keep himself up with his elbows shaking. Every inch of his body felt freezing cold. The coldness had faded over the past few days, but now he could feel nothing else. He thought of how scared James had sounded and started to cry. Stress and pain and helplessness twisted around his chest and made him feel like he was going to throw up._

_“That’s how it felt,” James said above him._

_Using great effort, Frank forced himself to look up. James was looking down at him, eyes in place all of a sudden and full of sympathy, like he was sorry. “That’s how it felt,” James repeated. “When you left. You changed who I was, changed my life, made me fall in love with you, then left.” James looked so broken now, that desolate kind of sad that Frank knew all too well. “And now you’re with someone else… Did you forget me, Frank?”_

_Frank was loath to admit that he had moved beyond his feelings for James._

_“I’ve never loved a boy before,” James choked out, sounding tortured. “My family wants to disown me. I know your mother was mad, but that didn’t mean you couldn’t write. Send me a letter. I’m alone now, Frank. Everyone knows what we did. Everyone knows how sick you and I are. And you aren’t even here to protect me.” James shook his head. “Some friend. All the lies you told me…”_

_“I’m sorry,” Frank wheezed, staring up at James with a pleading expression. “I couldn’t… This town…”_

_“That’s no excuse,” James told him. “You’d promised me nothing would come between us, and that includes some town.”_

_“There are monsters…”_

_James clenched his jaw. “You did this to me.”_

_Frank was about to fucking dry heave. “James…”_

_“Do yourself a favor,” James said. “Next time you get a computer? Check the Jersey obituaries. You may see a familiar face. Someone you used to say you loved.” James sighed and dropped to his knees in front of Frank. He reached out and Frank flinched back, but James took Frank’s jaw gently in his hands. “You don’t know what it’s like,” James told him. “But you will soon.”_

_Frank wanted to ask what he meant when suddenly James’ thumbs were in his eyes and Frank was screaming. Blinding pain shot through his head, white hot and piercing, like someone was drilling holes in his skull and hitting his temples with a nail. James was pressing his thumbs into Frank’s eyes, trying to gouge out Frank’s eyes like his thumbs were spoons, and Frank could feel the blood running down his face and falling into his mouth._

_“You brought this upon yourself,” James said above him. “You brought this upon yourself. And one day, when this is all over, you’ll regret ever standing up to the devil you see be—”_

“Don’t touch him!”

The pain was gone from his eyes and the crash of the world literally collapsing around him filed his ears. Frank was suddenly back in Ryan’s house. He gasped for breath and looked down at his hands that had his blood all over them. He looked at the floor and saw stains and realized he’d been driving his own fingers into his eyes. Frank couldn’t see out of his left eye, could barely see through his right, so when he looked up, Gerard was mostly blurry, but still somehow clear as day.

The way Gerard was standing, facing Nobody with the fiercest expression Frank had ever seen on him, was like seeing the birth of a superhero from one of his comic books. His shoulders were squared, his hair strew about his face, his hand held in front of him with some sort of negative light surrounding his skin and running in his veins. Like a physical sort of superhuman ability that Frank could touch if he just reached out.

“Don’t touch him,” Gerard said again. Nobody was staring at him, her little eyes wide with fear. She was frozen in place and struggling to move, but it didn’t work. Frank realized, when he saw the same negative light surrounding Nobody, that Gerard was physically holding her in place with his mind.

“Whatever you’ve done to his mind needs to end,” Gerard continued, stalking towards her. “I don’t understand any of this shit anymore, and I won’t pretend that I do. All I know is that Frank is fucking mine now, you got it? And as long as I have any hold above you fucking assholes, you will not hurt him ever again. You will not make his mind your own ever fucking again, got it? So don’t fucking touch him!”

“Worthless,” Nobody choked out. Frank could see the anger welling in her eyes. “Abomination!”

“The guy holding your fucking life in his hands,” Gerard shot back with absolutely no fear. “You’re gonna leave this fucking house and you’re gonna leave Frank’s head, or I’ll send you back to the fucking hell you came from.” When she made no sign of agreeing, Gerard narrowed his eyes and opened his mouth to say those fatal words.

“I’m gone!” she gasped, still probably struggling against the paralysis. “I’m gone, I swear! I won’t come back here!”

“Damn right,” Gerard huffed. He flicked his wrist and said, “fuck off.” The girl nodded and shut her eyes and disappeared, an ability only she seemed privy too. As soon as she was gone, Frank felt like a huge weight was lifted from his mind and body. He collapsed to the ground in relief with a gasp, lying there on his side and just breathing shallowly. 

“God, Frankie,” Gerard breathed, dropping to his knees beside Frank. Frank looked up, saw the blood running from Gerard’s ears, and knew that he had fucked up. He was probably the biggest liability to have around, and Gerard was hurting himself in his efforts to protect him. Guilt, hot and heavy, settled in Frank’s gut. He was going to get Gerard killed, he knew it. 

“We have to go, Frankie,” Gerard pleaded. “I can feel them outside the house.” Frank must’ve looked confused— after all, how did he know that? Hadn’t Nobody been kinda banished? “I can’t explain it,” Gerard told him. “But I know they’re out there. Too many of them. I think they knew we’d come here, Frankie, so we gotta go. We gotta run.” 

Frank couldn’t run. He could barely breathe and felt like a failure of a human being, cause how could a fucking human not be able to breathe? That was a primary fucking function. Frank struggled to sit up, arms still shaking, and felt pathetic. Useless. A waste. Gerard's arm wrapped around his side and helped him up, pulling Frank into his side. A hand reached for Frank’s face, and he avoided it entirely, the image of James wrapped his fingers around Frank’s neck burned into his psyche forever.

“I can’t possibly know what you saw,” Gerard murmured. “Or understand how you're feeling, but I promise you that I only want to help you, okay? I just need you to let me help you.”

Frank squared his jaw and pulled away from Gerard’s touch, forcing himself to his wobbly, weak legs despite the protest of pain that ran through every inch of muscle. He could do this on his own. He didn’t need Gerard’s help again. 

He stumbled out of the room and to the door, throwing it open.

He immediately regretted opening the door.

There were doctors, policemen, fucking adults in suits, at least forty people or more people all standing outside the door, surrounding the house, staring at him. He backed away in shock, closing the door like that would help, but an arm slid between the door and the border, and a man stepped inside. He had that lame sheriff badge Frank had only seen in movies on his chest. The man smiled softly at Frank, and Frank’s heart nearly fucking stopped.

“Where’s his brother?” the man asked.

“Who are you?” Frank asked, voice catching at the end. 

“Andrew Dun. Call me Andy,” the man said, sounding so fucking charming. “I ask you again, son, no hard feelings. Where is his brother?”

“Don’t touch Gerard,” Frank choked out. He turned and saw Gerard was standing in the hallway, staring at Andy Dun. “Gee!” he shouted, all intelligence leaving him. “Run!” Gerard, though, didn’t move. He dragged his eyes to Frank and shook his head. Frank knew he couldn’t run, and realized Gerard knew that too. Gee wasn’t going to leave him. That same helpless disgust with himself churned in his stomach again, and he wanted to get angry, when another set of hands was around his neck. He kicked out on reflex, then screamed as he was thrown across the room, hitting the wall at the opposite it. Something splintered in his side and he cried out in pain. 

“Frankie!” Gerard called out, moving to follow him, but arms from the people who had once been surrounding the house reached out and snagged Gerard, holding him tightly. Frank struggled to sit up when hands came and pinned him down. He looked up and around at the nameless faces, fear curling low in his gut. 

“Get the fuck out!” Gerard shouted. Frank froze as the darkness filled the room, same as always when a demon left a body, Frank felt like he was falling, then he was yanked back into awareness and reality itself by a foot in his fucking stomach. The sudden transfer from the light to the dark to the light again made him nauseous. Frank dropped to his side, fucking useless again. He looked up and saw Gerard was on his knees, bleeding from his ears and nose, staring into nothing. Frank would’ve been terrified to think him dead if Gerard wasn’t somehow staying upright on his own. Frank reached out to him, sputtering on blood that was running from his lips, unable to get Gerard’s name out but trying anyways.

Andy laughed above Gerard, reaching down and taking Gerard’s chin, jerking him up to face him. “We can’t have Michael yet,” Andy sighed, sounding like it was just a small inconvenience instead of the unwillingness of the best and only trump card. “But a little persuasion shouldn’t be amiss. Won’t take much, either. Just a severed limb or two on his doorstep. We’d take Ray, but… His feelings for that man make harming Ray Toro just a step too far. Have to have a happy medium, yes? That’s what you useless little things say?”

“Mikey,” Gerard slurred, in a sickly daze. “Mikey…”

Andy scowled. “Freaks.” He drew his hand back and threw his fist into Gerard’s face, sending Gerard to the floor with a dull thud that sounded far too lifeless for Frank. Frank whimpered his protest and, despite the fact that he had at least one broken something, starting trying to crawl towards Gerard. He dug his nails into the floor and pulled himself an inch across the floor, then another, until a demon took notice and stood on his back. Frank coughed up more blood and felt like he was dying. He almost wished he would die so he would stop feeling this pain. 

“We’ll have Michael soon enough,” Andy hummed, literally fucking hummed, with a musical edge to his tone. “For now, we’ll have fun with you both. He can’t do anything, after all. Fresh out of the void. Can probably barely think.”

Andy dropped down and lifted Gerard back onto his knees. “Doesn’t that sound fun?” he asked, like a fucking psychopath. He grabbed Gerard by the cheeks and forced him to look at him again. “Wanna be the reason your brother wipes out all of humanity? Wanna make him turn on his own kind? All I have to do is twist you apart in all the right places…”

Gerard let out a noise of pain Frank could barely hear. Andy reached out and took Gerard by the middle and ring finger. He sneered, eyes bleeding red and black into his irises, and he snapped Gerard’s fingers back.

Gerard screamed.

Frank couldn’t stand the sound.

Andy laughed and then screamed with Gerard, but in a mocking way, one that made Frank want to smash Andy’s head into ground meat so he wouldn’t have to hear the laugh.

“You fucking pig!” Andy cackled once he was done making fun of Gerard. “Helpless! I could tear your throat out! Force feed your innards to friends! Tear every inch of skin from your body and watch you writhe! And then I’ll bring your brother close and let him finally, finally know what you taste like.”

Gerard stared up at Andy with unhidden fear. Frank could see a vein throbbing in Gerard’s forehead— he was obviously trying to fight back, even after his brain had to have been a mess of gray matter pudding at this point, and Frank fell a little in love. Then he heard Gerard choke out a broken, barely understandable, “don’t touch Frankie,” and fuck.

Here was this fucking kid, who’d started out with his nose buried in books and neglecting people who should’ve meant the world to him. He’d been basically living in a fucking library and flinched if you talked a little too loudly. Now he was staring down a fucking demon after banishing several more in whatever hell they came from, and trying to take down this colossal asshole too, even though he had to be so fucking fucked up and hurting. Frank was hurting too— everything was shit. He tried to look up at who was pinning him to the ground, even though it didn’t actually matter. He just wanted to have a glimpse at the face that would probably be the one to kill him. 

He made eye contact with Gerard from across the room, and relished it. That one, final moment they would share. Gerard mouthed something to him that looked a little like, “it’ll be okay,” but it also could’ve even “Frankie, run away,” which totally wasn’t happening unless Gerard was running with him. Frank smiled softly too him, ready to accept his fate with Gerard. Their deaths would probably be torturous and painful. He could handle it. He could handle anything the second Gerard smiled back at him. Gee was ready to die too. They could do this together.

Andy laughed at Gerard’s final request. “Kill that thing,” he told the demon pinning Frank. Gerard let out a garbled cry, sounding like he wanted— or needed— to beg for Frank’s life.

Frank shut his eyes as he saw something metal and sharp glint in his peripherals.

But nothing happened. 

Frank wanted to groan and say something self destructive, like “get on with it.”

“Frankie?”

Frank heard Gerard call out to him and knew he couldn’t deny him. He opened his eyes, saw the red and black world, and then saw that no one was moving. Andy was holding Gerard’s face and his eyes flitted around in a panicked horror, but his entire body was frozen. Frank looked up and saw he was halfway to being stabbed with a kitchen knife by a woman in her forties that was wearing a sweater with cats on it. He became aware of a vibrating darkness surrounding the woman, like visible audio wavs coming off their bodies.

Then the woman’s eyes rolled into the back of his head and Frank watched as her skull was crushed from the inside. She screeched in the back of her throat, the awful sound of dying, and ended up looking like the aliens from “Mars Attacks” after their brains exploded. She dropped to the floor, lying beside Frank, fucking dead, holy crap, there was brains oozing out of her crushed skull and Frank had a sudden remembrance of what the human body tasted like. Frank’s stomach churned and he felt like he was seconds from throwing up. 

Then a second woman collapsed beyond her, then a man, then more and more. The front door opened and Mikey stepped in, surveying the room, and holy shit. Mikey Way could kill everyone. 

Mikey stepped over bodies, walking deeper into the room. He went to Frank’s side, stooping to his knees and resting a hand on Frank’s shoulder. “You okay?” Mikey asked softly, so fucking calm even as Frank saw another man’s head cave in just behind him, the man letting out a gargling mess of pain before collapsing. Frank wanted to be afraid. He wanted to be terrified. Except Mikey’s hand was so warm that it was like a furnace and he felt relief knowing he wasn’t actually about to die.

“Just hang on,” Mikey told him. Ray appeared over Mikey’s shoulder, reaching around and trying to pull Frank up into a sitting position. Frank protested weakly, his broken bones scraping something they shouldn’t. 

“Breathe with me, Frank,” Ray prodded. “I think something may be broken in there,” and yeah, no fucking way.

“Gee,” Frank choked out, because Gerard was still being held in that bruising grip. He tried to pull from Ray, because he couldn’t see Gerard from here, but then Mikey stood up and Frank could see the reverence that fell across Gerard’s face as he looked up at his little brother. It was like Gerard was seeing his fucking savior, or proof of god, in the arrival of his brother. Frank could see that same black something that had been surrounding the woman radiating from Mikey’s hands, and knew that Mikey was the one doing this.

“Mr. Dun,” Mikey said, voice low and dangerous and way too big to be coming from someone as small as Mikey. “Let go of my brother.”

Andy snapped his hands away from Gerard’s face, eyes fixated on Mikey. 

“I’m not going to kill you,” Mikey said. “Only because I know you have someone that you report to. You’re not smart enough to make this entire mess on your own. I know that once I’m done here, you’re gonna tuck tail and run to your boss. And when you do, I know it’ll only be a matter of time before I meet him or her myself.” Andy would've sneered if he could. “But I swear to fucking god, Mr. Dun,” Mikey sighed. “If you touch Gee and Frank or Ray, I will kill you next time. Whatever half assed scheme you and Nobody have to get at me is pointless when I can control your fucking organs from the inside out.”

The final demon dropped dead in the middle of the room. Andy continued to stare.

“I’m done with you,” Mikey said. “Don’t you dare ignore my threats.” Mikey reached down with his hand that was swirling with black and held Andy’s wrist. A sizzling came from the flesh and Andy screamed before disappearing. Frank wondered if Andy had the same powers as Nobody, or if Mikey could just make this things do what he wanted, regardless of the laws of the physical world. 

Gerard dropped forward after being released and collapsed into his brother’s front, burying his face in Mikey’s stomach. “It’s okay, Gee,” Mikey murmured, petting his brother’s hair. “Frank’s safe.”

“Frank’s ribs are broken,” Ray chimed in, sounding stressed. How was he completely unfazed by what he’d seen Mikey do? “We can’t do much except keep him upright and not let him do any strenuous, but we’re gonna need a shit ton of painkillers, Mikey.”

“I just killed the the pharmacist,” Mikey said nonchalantly. “We’ll get him what he needs.”

“Mikey,” Gerard moaned, still buried in his brother’s stomach. “Thank you.”

Mikey nodded. “Let’s get you both home, Gee,” he said softly. “You two need some rest.”

Ray put his arms under Frank’s legs and lifted him. A horrible, crashing pain slammed into his lungs and Frank blacked out.


	15. Three AM Inside (Witching Hour)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> AO3 IS BACK UP THANK GOD

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> song rec: **"Holy Roller" by AWOLNATION**

Frank woke up in Ray’s truck, the ride bumpy enough to send enough pain to his brain and wake him. He grunted and tried to shift into a position that hurt a little less, then saw Gerard slumped in the backseat beside him. Frank reached out, took Gerard’s wrist, found a pulse, and relaxed. Mikey turned around in the front seat and watched Frank keep his hand on Gerard’s wrist. Frank took in the thrum of the beat and let himself breathe alone with it, fining immense comfort in the proof of Gerard being alive.

“You really do love my brother,” Mikey observed, almost cooly. 

Frank stiffened and tried to stare Mikey down, but it was hard when his rib was broken and his eyes hurt. He wondered if he had blood in his thumbnails from trying to gouge out his own eyeballs. “We haven’t gotten that far,” he told Mikey. They’d kiss less than the fingers on Frank’s one hand.

“You don’t have to have sex with someone to love them,” Mikey sighed, sounding like he thought Frank was some sort of simpleton. “You can love someone and never even touch them. Never be with them. That doesn’t mean you haven’t fallen in love.”

Frank scowled. “Aren’t you, like, sixteen?”

“I was alive in the void for over a hundred years,” Mikey told him with far too much nonchalance. Ray swerved the car dangerously, looking to Mikey with shock and a hint of pain. Frank wanted to comment at how closely the two were sitting next to each other. “I’m a lot older than you, Frank,” Mikey continued. “At least relatively.”

“You look like a fucking thirteen year old,” Frank grumbled, not wanting to be one-upped. Mikey smiled a little and shrugged. “And I don’t think I’m gonna be the first one to say that L word to your brother, so you’re better off pretending you didn’t hear anything from me.”

“I’m pretty bad at pretending,” Mikey said.

“He is,” Ray defended. “Mikey couldn’t lie to a tree if he tried.”

“Are you two finally done being stupid?” Frank asked, wanting to put them on the spot in retaliation. Ray, though, fucking smiled like an idiot and met Mikey’s eyes with way too much fondness for Frank’s churning stomach to handle. Milky smiled back and Frank realized they were holding hands. Frank pretended to gag.

“Like you weren’t pissed at me for being in denial,” Ray accused, not at all bothered by Frank’s childish reaction. “You should be happy I got over my internalized homophobia.”

“What’s gonna happen to your girlfriend?”

Mikey looked to Ray for Ray’s answer and Ray hesitated. “I don’t know,” Ray said honestly. “I just know that I love Mikey more than I’ve ever loved her. Which means, if she ever shows up again, I, uh…” Ray shrugged. “I’ll break up with her.”

Mikey perked up. “You will?”  Ray nodded. “It’s not like it’s a hard decision. Maybe it’s a little sad that I’d be willing to do that, but stringing her along is just as bad as breaking up with her, if not worse. At least I won’t be lying to her. At least I won’t be tying her down to a life of false love. I have Mikey, now.”

“Who’s still totally illegal,” Frank added.

Ray bit his lip but Mikey laughed. “Again,” Mikey said. “Over a hundred years. If anything, we’re a creepy rendition of Twilight. He can follow me into the woods and ask me how old I am. I’ll say I’m sixteen and that I’ve been sixteen for a while. And then I’ll call him stupid monkey pet names and we’ll live happily ever after.”

“You’re such a romantic,” Frank commented.

“We’re almost at your place,” Ray told Frank. “We’re hiding out there for now. Mikey says he knows some stuff he can paint around the house that’ll keep the demons from coming inside.”

“Can we come up with a cooler word than demons?” Frank asked dryly.

Mikey scrunched his nose in thought. “Lucal’s bitches?”

“Lucal Locals?” Ray suggested.

“Loony Lucals,” Mikey said with a giggle.

“Fuck you both,” Frank griped. Ray pulled up the dirt driveway of Frank’s home, approaching the house, every one scanning it for any signs that it wasn’t as safe as they hoped it would be. Frank was a little blindsided by the absence of his mother’s car. He wondered where she could be.

“I call first shower,” Ray said just break the silence.

“Fuck you,” Frank said idly. “I’m covered in blood.”

“I’m covered in sweat and other bodily fluids,” Ray snorted. 

“What a coincidence, so am I,” Mikey hummed.

Frank blanched. “You two fucked? What the fuck? Oh my god, Mikey, you went to… _Did you fuck in a church_?”

Mikey snickered and Ray had the audacity to look sheepish.

“Fuck,” Frank cursed. “You’re fucking with me. You fucked the antichrist in a church. Do you know how fucked up that is?”

Ray hesitated. “… He’s the antichrist?”

“Oh shit,” Frank blurted out, feeling like an idiot. Mikey almost looked a little freaked out, like it dawned on him that he had forgotten to tell Ray. At least he hadn’t left out that important detail on purpose. “I mean, uhm.” Ray hadn’t seemed all that surprise to learn that Mikey had been awake in some sort of hell while actually being sleep— that probably had to do with the world Ray was only barely starting to accept. 

“We’ll talk later,” Ray sighed, sounding tired again. Mikey nodded and sat back down in his seat, looking like a kid waiting to receive punishment from the principle. 

Ray helped carry Gerard into the house and Frank hobbled, wincing in pain with each step, but he didn’t want Mikey’s help. He could do this one his own. He looked around his house and knew something was wrong. The place looked stuffier and darker and there was something off. Everything looked a few centimeters off and a little emptier. “Mom?” he called out into the house. There was no response. He went to the kitchen and saw a note on the fridge. It was his mom’s handwriting, and all it said was, “you’ll die if you stay here.” That confirmed his suspicion.

“My mom left,” he mumbled as Ray came into the kitchen, presumably for water.

“Where’d she go?” Ray asked, frowning.

“She left the town.” Frank just knew she had. She didn’t write things like that when she was making rash decisions. Her words sounded like the underhand confession of a coward and he knew his mother was gone. “I, uh… Yeah. She left. Me.”

Frank looked away from the note and tried not to freak out over being that close to orphaned. Ray came forward, putting an arm around Frank’s shoulder. “You need rest,” Ray told him. “We’ll keep you safer than she ever did. She’s gone. We’re not, Frank. I know it’s gonna hurt, but it’s not like she’s been a big staple in your new life. You have us now, Frank. Maybe not immediately, but one day, that’ll be enough.”

Frank was defeated at this point. “Can I stay with Gee?”

Ray winced. “Pretty sure Mikey’s already claimed that spot.”

Frank’s heart sunk.

“It’ll be okay no matter what,” Ray said firmly. “I’m gonna take Mikey’s attention eventually. Just here to check on you. And, uh…” Ray bit his lip. “I mean, this may seem pretty rude and bad timing, but can I take your mom’s bed? Since she won’t be using it. I don’t think all of us can fit in your bed. Especially once we regroup with Ryan.”

Frank shrugged. “If you don’t mind the fact that she smells like cinnamon and weird cosmetics.”

Ray smiled crookedly. “It’ll be nice to just have a real bed. I’ve been sleeping on the church cot lately.”

“Is that where you fucked Mikey?” Frank asked a little harshly.”

“Actually, no,” Ray replied, taking Frank’s comment in stride. “I fucked him on the pews.”

Frank stared at Ray. “… Are you and him actually together? Like, no more hiding from your dumb feelings? You’re actually done with that, right? Cause I don’t know Mikey that well, but he looks really fucking happy. And I feel like we should be keeping the antichrist happy.”

“He’s not actually the antichrist,” Ray said, sounding unsure. Frank didn’t respond and Ray tugged at his hair. “Okay. Okay. So. I’m dating the antichrist. Worse has happened, right? I mean, think of the woman that married Hitler. Was Hitler married? I mean, Mikey isn’t Hitler, even if he is the antichrist. I know Mikey. He could never do anything like that.”

“I’m sure you’re right,” Frank replied. “Gerard seems pretty certain Mikey isn’t what they want him to be. And he did kinda blatantly declare war against the things. He’s on our side. For now.”

“Forever,” Ray defended. “Mikey isn’t evil.”

“So you guys have been saying,” Frank sighed, leaning against the fridge, finally losing his ability to stand up straight. His sides hurt so fucking badly, a dull throb of pain every time he breathed, every time his heart beat. He probably needed painkillers. “You said I have internal bleeding?”

Ray stepped forward and lifted Frank’s shirt. Frank was too tired to fight his cold fingertips. 

“I think the blood clotted,” Ray said. “It doesn’t look any worse. I think it’s regular bruising. And you’re lucky your lung isn’t punctured. But you need to go get some rest right now, okay? We can’t dress a broken rib. We can only let it heal.” Frank looked up at him with skepticism and Ray smiled sympathetically. “Mikey and you and Gee can fit in your bed, we’ve done it before. Mikey will be out of there eventually cause I don’t want to sleep alone.”

Frank smiled wryly and still couldn't stand up straight. Ray reached out, offering help that Frank was going to accept out of necessity. Ray helped him to the bedroom, and they both stopped in the doorway, because Mikey and Gerard looked too serene to disturb. Mikey was sitting up with his back against the headboard, eyes closed in sleep. Gerard was curled up between his knees, his head resting on Mikey’s stomach, also asleep. Mikey’s hand was tangled in Gerard’s greasy hair like he’d fallen asleep while combing his fingers through Gerard’s hair, and Gerard’s face was nuzzled into his brothers probably-warm body. Ray smiled softly at the sight and Frank twitched as a wave of jealousy washed over him.

“I’m so gone for that kid,” Ray said in a low voice to make sure the two brothers stayed asleep. Frank grumbled something and limped into the room. He crawled onto the bed with a few grunts of pain, because he shouldn’t be supporting himself like this, but he needed to be with Gerard. He wormed his way into Gerard’s front, curled up into his chest, and shut his eyes. It hurt to lie on his side, but it was worth it to be so close to the living, breathing Gerard.

Mikey groaned and looked down at Frank. Frank glared up at him. Mikey snorted. “Trying to get between this homo brotherly love?” Mikey griped, sounding half asleep and not at all upset. There was even a hint of a smile.

“You must be tired after saving our asses,” Frank said. “So, uh, thanks,” he added begrudgingly. Mikey had literally saved his life. He couldn’t be grumpy about anything this kid had done after saving him and Gerard. “Did it hurt?” he asked after Mikey shrugged off Frank’s thanks. “Expending all that energy. That sort of thing runs Gerard dry. Turns his brain into mush.”

“I’ve had a lot of time to practice,” Mikey said, going back to petting Gerard’s hair. “It’s what I did in the void, aside from running for my life and listening to Amon tell me things about hell and stuff.”

“That sounds pretty dull,” Frank commented. “Except for the running for your life part. That part actually sounds like a lot of work. But practicing and stories? That sounds fucking lame. Like going back to school, but with no cute boys or girls to gawk at.”

Mikey laughed and looked surprised that Frank had made him laugh. “I wouldn’t know,” Mikey said. “I haven't been to school in decades.”

Frank twisted his mouth. “Do you miss it?”

Mikey shrugged. “I had friends. Well, one, really. But I killed her.”

Frank frowned. “Thought it was a boy.”

“Pretty sure no one knows who I killed,” Mikey sighed. “A lot of people died around that time. They had a hard time keeping track of it all. I killed my friend Alicia. We were going into the woods because she found this birds nest that had fallen to the ground and wanted my help putting it back up. I ended up with my hands around her throat. I caved in her skull with a rock.”

Frank watched Mikey for any sort of reaction, but saw nothing. “Are you sorry?”

“I was for a long time,” Mikey said. “But again, over a hundred relative years. I’ve had a lot of time to work through these things. Really, the only human thing I didn’t work through in the void was Ray.” Mikey shrugged. “He was an anchor. Him and Gee. They just helped me through a lot of stuff in there. It would’ve been wrong to get over him and forget him.”

Frank nodded. “And you were kinda in love with him.”

“That too,” Mikey agreed. “Maybe I’ll go back to school. Maybe I’ll get my GED. I don’t think I know enough algebra to get my GED, but who knows. I could at least try. That way I won’t be a complete fucking failure of a human being.”

“Is that important to you?” Frank asked. “Being human?”

Mikey scrunched his nose. “I’m doing a lot of soul baring with a near stranger.”

Frank shrugged. “I’m the one who’s listening.” Ray hadn’t been in the doorway for a while. “You could wait for Gee, but I think he’s a little obsessed with you just being his brother again and not talking about the shit that’s been haunting him for years.”

“So you’re like my therapist,” Mikey said, quirking the corner of his lips. “You just kinda listen and soak it up like a sponge. That’ll be the basis of our relationship. A trash can holding all the information.”

“Don’t call me trash,” Frank snorted.

“Of course, babe,” Mikey replied dryly. Gerard let out a soft noise in his rest and squirmed, brow knitting together like he was in pain. Frank reached out and gently rubbed Gerard’s side despite how much it hurt his own ribs. He’d expected the pain to be a lot more apparent, especially since the adrenaline had worn off, but he felt better and in less pain than he had at the church. He looked down his own body to see if there was anything he should worry about, then saw Mikey’s hand on his hip. He frowned. “I can take pain,” Mikey told him. “I found that out in the void with the dead people who couldn’t move on. Just put a hand on them and leech it away. I can’t explain it, but I kinda like it. I think it’s meant to be a torture thing. I can numb the pain so I can hurt them more without them trying to get away, then pull away and make it bad all over. Or maybe it’s to make me trustworthy?”

“Fuck if I care, I’m just glad it works out here in the real world,” Frank said, lifting the bottom of his shirt. “Try skin-on-skin contact. I don’t have any decent painkillers in this house.”

“Shouldn’t you be taking me to dinner first?” Mikey griped as he splayed out his hand across Frank’s bony hip. The relief was almost immediate and Frank moaned softly, sinking into the bed. “Now I really feel like this is inappropriate.”

“Shut up,” Frank slurred. “Fuck, I could sleep like this forever. You’re even making my stomach ache go away.”

“Ryan’s home,” Mikey said as the front door slammed shut. Frank forced himself to lift his head when he heard talking from the front of the house. Footsteps, then Ryan was in the doorway, frowning and looking just as empty as he’d been when he left. Frank’s face fell a little, because he’d hoped Ryan had pulled himself back into one piece over the course of the day. God knew Frank had done some of his own piecing-together today. 

“You guys look like shit,” Ryan deadpanned. “Who hit you with their car.”

“Like, fifty fucking demons,” Frank said, smiling a bit. “I don’t know if we can fit you in the bed, but we can still try.”

“Josh and Tyler are bringing over pizza,” Ryan said dully. “I may have recruited them.”

“You didn’t,” Frank said, staring at Ryan. When Ryan didn’t deny it, Frank scowled and struggled to sit up. “You can’t be fucking serious,” he growled, trying to sound threatening. “Those two aren’t a part of this! They could get killed, Ryan! Jesus christ, why don’t you drag Pete and Patrick into this while you’re at it?”

“They’ve left town,” Ryan replied, still in monotone. “I made sure of it. Nearly everyone has. But Josh won’t go and Tyler won’t go without Josh. Their parents are missing so they either hang around us or hide out in some fucking cellar and pray nothing grabs them.” Ryan stepped into the room and went to the closet, going through Frank’s clothes and pulling out a blanket. “I had to make a choice, Frank. With everyone gone, they’re safer with us.” He lied the blanket over the three boys on the bed, and Frank felt bad for doubting Ryan. Ryan didn’t make stupid decision. He agonized and tortured himself. He didn’t deserve Frank calling him out.

“Just don’t let them shove their way into any fights,” Frank sighed. “Things are… Gee and I were cornered at your place by, like, fifty of them. We wouldn’t have survived if Mikey didn’t show up.” Frank watched Ryan and Mikey trade silent looks. “They’re organizing, Ryan,” Frank told him. “And Gerard fried his brain trying to fight back. Also, Nobody is somehow able to bring people into her nightmare places? I think. She was… She brought James in.”

Ryan just barely flinched, but his expression remained blank. “We’ll figure out a way to handle her. She’s nothing compared to Mikey. If she can bring in people from our memories, though, that’s when things become a problem. We need to figure out a safeguard on our minds. Some sort of lock to keep her out.”

Frank felt Mikey shrug and respond. “I mean, there are ways, but it involves cutting into your skin. Scarification.”

Frank cringed sleepily at the word, but Ryan looked like he was actually considering. “You can’t be serious, Ry,” Frank said, a little incredulous. “Scarring our bodies? That’s fucking extreme. What do you have to hide in your head that’s worth something that painful?”

“A dead boyfriend and dad,” Ryan responded automatically, making Frank wince. “You literally told me that the demons have been priming me to be emotionally unstable so I could be manipulated,” Ryan said to Mikey. Mikey nodded. “That makes me think that I’m more likely to succumb to whatever emotional trauma she gives me,” Ryan continued. “It makes me think I’m the biggest threat to all of you, since they’ve been readying me to be used since I was a kid. Out of all of you, I should be the one willing to take the hit and protect my mind so none of you have to deal with possibly having to take me out. I don’t think it’ll be hard to kill me,” Ryan added, sounding way to clinical about it. Frank’s stomach was beginning to churn again despite Mikey’s hand on his hip. “I just think it might make you guys upset to have to do that. I don’t want to put that sort of responsibility on any of you.”

“Fuck off, Ryan,” Frank said, because he couldn’t think of anything else to say. He hated how Ryan was talking about himself. Again, he as reminded that there was something very wrong with Ryan now. Something bone deep and psychologically vital. And Frank knew that he wouldn’t be able to fix any of it. He didn’t know if anyone could at this point. “You need a therapist,” he said anyways, just to make himself feel better.

“Sure thing,” Ryan said flippantly. “I’m gonna take a shower.”

“Did you find anything?” Mikey asked, tensing when he heard Ryan say the word “shower.” “Anything we should know about?”  Ryan shook his head. “Just Josh and Tyler, asking me where their parents went.” He sounded sad, and Frank assumed it was because Ryan knew what it was like to feel utterly orphaned. Maybe Josh and Tyler didn’t know to the extreme— probably just the measure Frank was familiar with now— but it was something to Ryan. Ryan turned and started to head for the bathroom again.

Mikey pulled his hand from Frank’s hip and the pain was so immediate that Frank let out a pathetic noise before he could stop himself. “I’m sorry,” Mike mumbled. “I have to—” Mikey cut himself up and got out from under his brother, standing from the bed and following Ryan into the bathroom. Oddly enough, Ryan didn’t look annoyed. He let Mikey follow him in, and shut the door behind them both.

It was bizarre, but Frank’s vision was blurring from the pain. His head swam as he tried to sit up and Frank leaned over the bed, took a few, pained breaths, and dry heaved over the side, onto one of his shirts. 

Ray rushed into the room and told Frank stuff he couldn’t understand. Frank finished emptying his empty stomach, dropped back on the bed, and passed out just after swallowing some pills Ray pushed into his mouth. 

. . .

He woke up to lips on his own and harsh breath covering his face. Frank opened his eyes and had to cross them to see it was Gerard kissing him, the other boy looking frantic. Frank kissed back, not moving a muscle though, because the pain in his side was still throbbing dully, daring him to forget the broken ribs. Gerard pulled away with a gasp when he felt him move.

“Frankie, you’re alive,” he whispered, sounding so beyond floored about the fact. “You’re alive, you’re alive, Mikey saved you.” Gerard’s hands were everywhere, pressing into the skin of Frank’s thigh, then his backside, then his face, just touching everywhere. Frank pressed into the kiss again, because Gerard’s kiss numbed the pain almost as well as Mikey’s hands. He moaned softly and brought his own hands to Gerard’s chest, groping like a little kid and loving the warmth of Gerard’s flesh under the shirt. 

“How are we alive?” Gerard asked in gentle amazement. 

“You said it yourself,” Frank murmured. “Your brother, Mikey.”

“Mikey,” Gerard repeated with a wide smile. “Mikey.”

Frank nodded and kissed Gerard again. Gerard held to Frank’s shoulders and rolled onto his back, pulling Frank up on top of him. Frank winced at the twinge of pain and Gerard pulled back. “Did I hurt you?” Gerard asked shakily, but Frank shook his head. He didn’t care so much if it was Gerard doing the accidental hurting. He went back to kissing Gerard, slotting his body carefully between Gerard’s open legs. He knew he shouldn’t be exerting himself like this when he was hurt, when Gerard still didn’t have his mental capacity all together yet. But fuck, Gerard was right, they were actually alive. Frank hadn’t expected that to happen. He hadn’t expected to live. He pressed their chests together and felt Gerard breathe, relishing it. Gerard keened softly against his lips and rocked his crotch upwards into Frank’s hip, and okay, Gerard was hard. Frank could get behind that. He grinned and pulled away a little. 

“Adrenaline rush, right?” he asked, teasing Gerard a little. Gerard blushed beneath him and pulled his lower lip in between his teeth. He started shyly rocking his hips upwards with a little more meaning, watching Frank the whole time in case this was something he wasn’t supposed to be doing. Frank smiled wide, though, and shifted his legs to give Gerard something a little more solid to rub against. Gerard gasped at the angle change, and pushed his head back into the pillow, hair splaying out around his head like a halo. Frank bent over and attached his lips to Gerard’s pale neck, sucking a mark into the skin just above Gerard’s pulse. He sunk his teeth into the mark and pressed his lips to the bottom of Gerard’s jaw, dragging his lips upwards and across the soft skin.

Gerard whined deep in his throat and his hips sped up, thrusting against Frank’s thigh. The bed started to creak and Frank pressed his own hardening cock against the soft protrusion of Gerard’s hip bone. He gasped softly as Gerard’s thrusts carried through into his body, his own pleasure being taken along for the ride. The way Gerard was grinding against him pressed Frank’s own cock between their bodies. He shut his eyes and pressed his face back into Gerard’s neck, enjoying the warm darkness and Gerard’s scent filling his world. Gerard was whining, whimpering with need and losing control of his movements. Gerard braced his feet on the bed to make it easier to thrust upwards and Frank just sorta slumped into him, letting Gerard control this. 

Frank moaned throatily as he was basically bounced up and down on Gerard’s hips, the stimulation coming with no effort. Lazy pleasure twisted in his gut and his body tensed as his orgasm washed over him gently, making him shake and gasp for breath, only just barely rolling his hips through the aftershocks. Gerard whined again and cried out, back arching off the bed and lifting Frank with him as Gerard came soon after, Gerard body twitching wildly. He dropped back onto the bed, chest heaving, and sputtered out Frank’s name. Frank smiled sleepily and hummed. “Yeah,” he breathed. “That was nice.”

“Oh my god,” Gerard panted, much more strung out than Frank. “Holy shit.”

Frank giggled and lifted his head with great effort to kiss Gerard again. “Thank you,” he murmured, figuring it was the polite thing to do. He kinda wished he’d been more awake for this so he couldn’t seen Gerard’s face when he came, but that was for later. This was their first time doing anything like that with each other, and Frank thought it was perfect for them. Quiet and quick and satiating. Frank’s side barely hurt.

“I love you,” Gerard gasped out, and the lazy quiet in Frank’s brain fled “I do. Is that wrong?”

Frank shook his head, holding Gerard’s cheek in a hand. “It isn’t wrong,” he told him. “I just… Didn’t expect to hear that from you.” Frank wet his lips. “I love you too.”

Gerard smiled, brilliant and bright, his eyes lighting up. 

There was a knock on the door and Frank carefully turned to see Ryan in the doorway. Ryan’s nose was scrunched up.

“You guys are gross,” Ryan accused. 

“No one asked you to come in here,” Gerard huffed. Frank wasn’t surprised Ryan was smart enough to figure out in the span of a split second what he and Gee had been doing. 

“There’s pizza on the table,” Ryan said instead of being stubborn. “Be sure to thank Josh for it, he had to make it on his own and shit since the entire town is fucking missing. We’re gonna be formulating a game plan, so if you’d care enough to be present, that would be awesome.”

“Gerard’s head is still fucked,” Frank protested.

“The entire town is fucked too,” Ryan replied. “Not to be cruel, but one of those is a little higher on my priority list.” Ryan left and Frank scowled.

“Don’t be mad, Frankie,” Gerard soothed, bringing Frank’s face back to his own and kissing the corner of his lips. “He’s just doing what’s right by him. He’s got a lot of pressure on his shoulders. All of us look to him for leadership. He never asked for that job.”

Frank knew he was right. He couldn’t imagine how intimidating it was to be relied on by everyone to make life altering decisions. He and Ryan were the same age, too. He was glad he wasn’t in Ryan’s shoes. Wasn’t sure why they had put Ryan in those shoes to begin with. “I’m worried about him,” Frank confessed. “And I know your brother is. Why else would he follow Ryan into the fucking bathroom unless he was worried Ryan was gonna do something.”

“He’s fine,” Gerard said. Frank stared at him and Gerard’s resolve easily crumbled. “Okay, so he’s not,” Gerard sighed. “Maybe Josh can help? Cause I know I can’t. Maybe I could’ve, years ago, but that’s not how we are anymore. Pete could’ve helped too. Patrick. But they’re gone. What about you?”

“I can’t get through to him,” Frank said, though he wasn’t actually sure if he’d had the time to try. “I mean, Josh is probably the best bet. I know that might seem fucked up, but Josh knows what’s happened to him better than anyone.”

“Josh didn’t really eat anyone,” Gerard argued slowly. 

“God, it’s better than nothing, right?” Frank asked. “We have to help him somehow, you know? Even if we actually can’t. But Josh can. Maybe. Or Ray?”

“Mikey could,” Gerard reasoned. “Mikey already is.”

“Mikey has Ray,” Frank reminded him. “And the whole antichrist thing. Mikey has a lot of things to handle, right? I mean, not to say that Ryan isn’t important, just… We also have the end of the world to deal with.”

“Guys!” Ryan shouted. “Come eat fucking dinner!”

Frank sighed heavily. “Should I bother changing my pants?”

“I’m not gonna,” Gerard said with a shrug. “My brain feels better, too. So I don’t care.”

Frank nodded and forced himself out of bed. “It was kinda nice to get off with you,” Gerard told him way too brightly. Frank choked on a laugh and blushed, smiling shyly to Gerard. Gerard followed him and grabbed Frank’s hands. “I’m hungry,” Gerard added. “Let’s eat.”

He pulled Frank into the kitchen, sticking close to Frank’s side, kissing his cheek as often as he good. Frank waved awkwardly to Josh and Tyler, who were both sitting at the table, looking even more awkward than Frank’s wave. Ryan was sitting next to Josh, eating manually, like a robot. Ray was leaning against the counter, quiet and solemn.

Mikey, though, looked pretty fucking happy as he ate his pizza. He kicked his feet and licked his fingers clean, acting more human than Frank had ever seen. He cleaned his lips of sauce and smacked his lips. “This is fucking good,” Mikey told Tyler and Josh. “You guys make really good food. I’ve only had, like, little bits of food here and there since I woke up. But this stuff? This is fucking amazing.”

“Thanks,” Tyler said, still looking so awkward. Frank sat down with Gerard and mostly watched Mikey eat. After long moments of silence broken up only by the sounds of people chewing, Ryan heaved a heavy sigh.

“I get it,” Ryan said. Everyone looked to him. “I do, guys. We’ve all been thrust into this fucking conglomerate of shit and we can’t fucking handle it, don’t know how to handle it. Some of us barely even fucking know each other. Am I right?”

Josh did this little mouth shrug and Ray winced. No one said Ryan was wrong.

“So some of us are nearly perfect strangers,” Ryan said. “But we can’t stay that way. We won’t. Just by proximity. So I say that we all buckle down and stop acting like blushing mail order brides.” He looked around again and no one argued. “What’s good team building?”

Mikey chortled and nearly choked on his pizza.

“Oh geez,” Tyler groaned. “Are we gonna do the trust fall?” Josh giggled a little.

“We could do two truths and a lie,” Gerard suggested.

“Might as well do “Never Have I Ever” if we stoop that low,” Ray griped.

Ryan squinted at Frank’s fridge. “Got any eggs?”

That was how the seven of them ended up in a circle, tossing a fucking egg to each other, taking one step back with each successful trip around the loop the egg made. Mikey was probably the worst at this, getting nervous every time the egg landed in his hands. Ryan, though, was the best, which wasn’t surprising. He was dead on the inside. Catching and tossing an egg didn’t freak him out.

“Fuck you, fucking toss it!” Josh laughed, waiting for Mikey to stop freaking out and toss the egg to him already. Mikey flailed and threw it in the air. Josh just barely got it in his upturned palm, letting out a cry of triumph when he saw he’d succeeded. Then he bounced the egg to Ryan, who caught it with ease. Frank marveled at how in-sync Josh and Ryan were. They communicated with their eyes when the egg was going to be thrown. That was all they needed, even though everyone was standing a good few feet away from each other at the point. 

“I’ve been spending the entire game trying to think of a sex joke to make, but nothing’s working,” Gerard bemoaned.

Frank was the one to lose it all. Ray tossed him the egg and Frank misjudged the distance, reaching out too far. The egg fell between his arms and broke apart on the toe of his shoe. Everyone groaned, except for Tyler, he clapped and cheered. He apparently hated this game and thought it was too much stress. 

“Dammit, Frankie,” Gerard giggled. 

“Gee, I dare you to lick it off his shoe,” Mikey said, pointing to the mess.

“Fuck no!” Gerard laughed. “Fuck off!”

Ryan grabbed a rag to clean off Frank’s shoe. “Let’s finish off the pizza and go to bed,” he told everyone, using his leader voice and leaving no room for argument. Frank was smiling despite having lost. 

“You’re good at throwing,” Tyler told Frank with a wide smile. He’d been the one receiving Frank’s passes. “We should do another exercise tomorrow!”

“That sounds like a great idea,” Ray snorted. “Let’s hope we don’t have any sort of emergencies.”

“Ray, come to bed with me,” Mikey said, grinning like an idiot. The exercise had apparently awoken some playful side of Mikey that Gerard was over the moon about seeing again. Frank was happy to see Gerard was happy. “We call the master bedroom!”

“Josh and Tyler can have my bed,” Frank said. “Gee and I can take the couch, right?” Gerard nodded and Frank looked to Ryan. “You, uh… sleep wherever you think you are the safest.” Ryan scrunched his nose up like he didn’t understand. Mikey, though, sent Frank an appreciative glance. At least Mikey understood what Frank was trying to do.

“Stay with us,” Josh said gently, watching Ryan. “Tyler and I are small. So are you. The three of us will fit easily.” Josh then reached out, but faltered when he saw Ryan was staring at his hand like he didn’t recognize what it was. “C’mon, Ryan,” Josh prodded. “You need some sleep.”

Ryan sighed. “Sure. Why not.” 

Everyone went to bed and Frank curled up on his sofa with Gerard between his knees, Gerard’s head on his stomach. He knew his legs would be numb soon, but didn’t mind. He loved having Gerard’s body against his.

“Night, Frankie,” Gerard yawned. “Love you.”

“Love you too,” Frank said before turning off the light.

. . .

_Frank opened his eyes in pitch, cold darkness, but he wasn’t alone. He was falling, falling, falling, but he knew he could feel someone nearby. Frank slapped his hand out into the roaring darkness and screamed when his hand met something soft and warm._

_Ryan blew into existence the second Frank touched his skin and they hit the ground. They were lying on dead, scraggly grass, in the middle of an empty park. There was a swing set to their right, but one of the swing slings was on the ground and the other swing was missing entirely. There was also a jungle gym, but Frank thought the thing was made out of bones from far away._

_“Where are we?” Ryan asked, startling Frank. He looked to Ryan and blinked._

_“… Am I actually talking to the real Ryan?” Frank asked. “Or are you just here to fuck me up?”_

_“Jesus christ, it’s me,” Ryan huffed. “Whose head are we in?”_

_“What?” Frank asked dumbly._

_“When Nobody drags us into these places, she sometimes relies on memories,” Ryan explained, sitting up and looking around. “When a place looks this real, it’s a place already in a person’s head. So now we just need to figure out whose head we’re seeing.”_

_“How’re we together in here?” Frank asked shakily._

_“Don’t ask,” Ryan said, He stood completely, looking around. Then he offered Frank a hand, which Frank took. “Stick together. She likes to throw things at you. People.”_

_“How often have you dreamed like this?” Frank asked._

_“I told you not to ask,” Ryan said._

_“Do you see Brendon?” Frank knew he’d been literally just told not to ask, but if he was about to watch a boy jump from a building and splatter on the ground, he needed to mentally prepare himself. Ryan stiffened and glared at Frank, but he wasn’t angry. Frank also knew it had been a dick move to bring up Brendon so brazenly._

_“I’m gonna tell you not to ask one last time,” Ryan said. “If you ask things like that again, I will punch you.” Frank thought that was fair. “We need to find the tear,” Ryan said. “It’s where the reality bleeds through into this fake world. Where our psyche is able to distinguish that whatever representation in here is actually inaccurate.”_

_“Like how I knew James would never try to actually kill me,” Frank said._

_Ryan nodded, taking Frank’s confession surprisingly well. “Your brain knows the people Nobody uses against you better than she does. So your brain is able to jolt itself into awareness and realize that this is truly a dream. Like finding cues to know you’re dreaming to bring the regular dream into a lucid dream.”_

_“If this isn’t either of our realities, how will we know what the tear is?”_

_Ryan paused. “… Since we don’t know this place, that means we’re in here with someone who does.”_

_They traded gazes and said, “Gerard,” at the same time._

_“Head towards the jungle gym,” Ryan said. “I think I know where we are now.”_

_“Where?” Frank asked, then flinched. Ryan just rolled his eyes and headed into the parking, looking around with a sharp eye. Frank only just then noticed the heavy fog surrounding the entire park like a wall. He shuddered and wished he could pull his shirt closer to his body. He was cold. “Ryan, c’mon where are we?”_

_“A park,” Ryan said. “An old one that hasn’t existed in the last three years.”_

_Frank had long ago become aware that things that happened three years ago were not good. It usually involved dying or things close to death. “Who are we looking for?” He stopped when he heard the slapping of footsteps approach him from behind. Frank whirled around just in time to see Gerard fly past him, eyes unseeing and gray._

_“Gee!” Frank shouted, running after Gerard. He tried to catch up, but it was like Gerard couldn't see anyone at all. Frank noticed that even as they ran, the jungle gym never got any closer. It was like they were running on some sort of treadmill. Frank eventually ran out of breath and stopped, leaning over and gasping for breath. He glanced behind and saw Ryan was barely even a foot from where Frank was standing, but he looked like he he hadn’t moved._

_Frank was confused and it showed on his face._

_“This is Gerard’s head,” Ryan explained. “Only he can move about it freely.”_

_Frank looked back ahead and screamed Gerard’s name. Gerard was out of sight, had disappeared into the fog. Then he heard Gerard’s voice, shouting Mikey’s name, and oh god, was this where Gerard had last seen his brother? He wondered how many times Gerard had dreamed of losing his brother here, seen Mikey wander off with a friend and never see him awake again. Not for another three years, a least. Frank wondered why this park no longer existed. He was sure that had come as a relief and a horror to Gerard._

_“Gerard!” Frank shouted again, voice raw and scratchy. His head hurt from how hard he was screaming his boyfriend’s name. Frank took in a deep breath, ready to scream again, when the air rushed past him and chilled him to the fucking heart._

_“Frank?”_

_Frank whirled around saw Gerard standing next to a shocked Ryan. “Thank fucking god,” Frank breathed, reaching out and grabbing Gerard by the shoulders. “Gee? This is a fucking dream. This is Nobody fucking with our heads.”_

_“I know,” Gerard said. “How are you down here?” Gerard looked to Ryan. “I mean, Frank shows up in my dreams from time to time, but they’re nothing like this, and you’re almost never there, Ryan. No offense.”_

_“I would prefer if you took out that almost and say I definitely don’t show up in your pervy sex dreams,” Ryan griped._

_Frank heard the footsteps again and looked back to see Gerard run past them again, still frantic and blind to their presence. Gerard stepped aside and let Gerard run past him with a melancholic expression. “He does that a lot,” Gerard told them with a sad smile. “He’s never stopped running. Never stopped looking.”_

_“You found your brother,” Frank said. “You can wake up now.”_

_“Mikey isn’t what keeps him in the dream,” Gerard said. “That does.” He pointed beyond Frank, towards the fog. Frank tried to see what he was pointing at, but didn’t understand._

_“Just the fog?” Frank asked._

_“Holy shit,” Ryan breathed._

_“You don’t see it, do you, Frankie,” Gerard said._

_Frank squinted, but saw nothing. Just gray, formless fog. His eyes hurt if he looked at it too long. He wanted to know what Ryan and Gerard saw, especially when Ryan started to back away, fear written blatantly across his face._

_“Don’t brace for it,” Gerard warned. “We’ll wake up once it hits.”_

_Frank wanted to ask what they saw when a hand the size of a house suddenly burst from the fog, threw itself high into the air, then came down towards their heads, like it wanted to squish them like bugs. In Frank’s final moments of existing in a dream, he ran towards Gerard, a last ditch effort to save him and run._

_He felt his bones crumble and his blood vessels flatten and his brain turn to mush._

. . .

Frank woke up with a dry sob, snapping up and flailing, dropping to the floor. He bent over on his hands and knees, gasped for breath and tried not tell himself that he wasn’t dead, he hadn’t been crushed, he was alive.

“It’s okay, Frankie,” Gerard soothed from above, his hand coming down to rub Frank’s back. “Just breathe through it.”

“Broken,” Frank choked out, heaving for breath and fighting is gag reflex. “I-I died.”

“You didn’t die,” Gerard promised, moving to the floor with Frank and gathering him in his arms. Frank usually hated being made to feel small, but he needed this. He clung to the front of Gerard’s shirt and shoved his face into the warm darkness of Gerard’s chest. He found it funny how he preferred one darkness over another at this point.

“Ryan,” Frank gasped. “Gotta check on Ryan.”

“You need to sleep,” Gerard said. “That kind of dream takes a lot out of you.”

“Fucking Ryan,” Frank said, wanting Gerard to know he meant it.

“If we check on Ryan, will you promise to sleep after?”

Frank nodded and he knew Gerard could feel it. 

“Let’s go,” Gerard sighed, standing and pulling Frank up with him. Frank wondered how Gerard could be so put together after having a dream like that, but Gee had also known the hand was going to squash them before Frank had even seen it. Gerard must have been crushed by that hand more times than Frank cared to count. 

Gerard practically carried him to Frank’s bedroom. The door was open a crack and Frank could hear voice, almost like whispers. Frank pulled away from Gerard, leaned against the wall, and peered in through the crack.

Ryan was visibly shaking, lying with his eyes wide and his skin pale. Josh’s arms were wrapped around him and he was whispering things Frank couldn’t hear into Ryan’s ear. It seemed to be helping. Josh rocked slowly back and forth, scratching gently at Ryan’s scalp. Frank watched as Ryan slowly shut his eyes again.

“Why are you awake?”

Frank and Gerard both jumped. Tyler was standing behind them with a glass of water. The bathroom door was open, so Frank assumed Tyler had gone to get Ryan something to drink when Ryan had awoken in a panic. Tyler narrowed his eyes when he saw Frank had been spying. But it was Frank’s fucking house.

“Ryan will be okay,” Tyler said. “He was almost crying but Josh calmed him down.” Tyler moved between them and slipped back into the room. “Night,” Tyler said. He didn’t close the door. Frank felt guilty regardless and closed it for him.

“See?” Gerard asked, reaching out to rub Frank’s side. “He’s okay.”

Frank looked down. “… I’m scared to fall asleep again.”

“Don’t worry, Frankie,” Gerard soothed. “Even if we end up back in that park, I’ll be with you.”

Even though Frank knew he’d die in that park, knowing Gerard would be at his side made the prospect all the easier to swallow. He followed Gerard back to the couch and passed out, exhausted.


	16. Non Compos Mentis

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> been working towards this for a long time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> betaed by _Halseyschemicalromance_
> 
> song rec: **Be the One by Moby and/or **Hurricane by Thirty Seconds to Mars****

“You were there,” Gerard said, pointing to Ryan later that morning. “And so was Frank. How?”

“Funny, you were surprised for all of two seconds in the dream,” Ryan snorted. “In fact, you seemed pretty cool about everything after the initial shock. Have you learned something in those books and not told us? Is there anything Frank and I should know? How about a fucking hand crushing you? That seemed like a normal thing for you too.”

“Of course it’s normal, it’s called a reoccurring dream for a reason,” Gerard sighed. “But no, I don’t know anything about us, like, sharing a dream. I haven’t read anything about it. And honestly? I’ve haven’t read a thing about dreams in general. I have no idea who or what Nobody is, but she’s way too strong to be a lesser demon.”

“Lesser demon?” Frank repeated. “There’s a hierarchy?”

“I thought you knew that,” Gerard replied.

“Even I knew that, and I’m a fucking idiot,” Ryan said casually. 

“You’re not an idiot!” Josh shouted from the kitchen where he was trying to scrounge up some sort of meal with Ray. “Stop saying negative things?” Frank rolled his eyes and looked to Ryan, excepting some sort of gripe, but Ryan just blushed faintly and didn’t say anything. Frank sighed and knew it would be hypocritical to tell Ryan that they didn’t have time for exploring feelings like Ryan had told him only a few days ago. God, a few days. What had his life become, aside from a cluster fuck of psycho?

“I just wanna know why it’s the three of us,” Frank said. “I mean, it’s been us since the beginning, but she could’ve brought in Josh or something. Josh was possessed. Could’ve brought in Ray since he’s one of their biggest threats. He can actually exorcise.”

“So can I,” Gerard defended with a pout.

“Ray is a tool they want to use to get Mikey,” Ryan reminded them. “They probably wouldn’t want to risk fucking with his mind.”

“I’ve never met Nobody,” Ray chimed in. “I think? I don’t think I’ve ever met her. Maybe that’s a thing, too. Maybe she has to know the people to be able to bring them in. Has she ever met Josh? Or Mikey?”

“I’ve met her,” Mikey sighed from the couch. “She was in my head, but I shoved her out.”

“You found the tear?” Ryan asked.

“What tear?” Mikey frowned. “There was no tear or whatever. I just told her to get out.”

“What did she show you?” Gerard asked.

Mikey looked uncomfortable. He glanced to Ray’s back in the kitchen, then to Gerard, but didn’t say anything. He just turned back around and faced the dead TV, remaining resolutely silent. Gerard bit his lip and then crawled over the back of the couch, sitting down beside his brother. “Whatever it was,” he began softly, reaching out to rest his hand on Mikey’s shoulder. “You can tell us.”

Mikey grimaced. “They thought they could seduce me. Show me things they thought I would want. I walked over Ryan’s body. I tore out your fingernails and ate them, Gee. And I stabbed you in the gut. Then they brought me Ray. Said he would be my toy. That all of that would be my reward if I joined them.” He looked down and picked at the end of his jeans. “It’s why I said no.”

“They want you to kill us?” Ryan asked.

“They want me to kill everyone.” Mikey looked back up, saw everyone was watching him, even Josh and Ray from the kitchen. He sunk into the couch. “I just - guys realize what I am, right? Some sort of fucking monster. I’m literally the end of the world. I’m supposed to rise to political power or something and end the world and end all of humanity. I’m going to kill everyone and I…I don’t want that, but what if I don’t even have a choice?”

“You always have a choice,” Ryan said, arms crossed over his chest. “Don’t let anyone say otherwise.”

“Ryan, I’m the goddamn harbinger of doom,” Mikey huffed. “I think, at a certain point, I’m no longer considered human. So I don’t get that whole freedom of choice bullshit the rest of you do.”

“You have a choice,” Ryan repeated firmly, his expression hard. “What you don’t have are excuses.”

Mikey practically wilted, but didn’t argue. It was hard to argue with Ryan.

“You’re the antichrist,” Ryan said. “I’m a liability. Ray’s a priest and Gerard’s a nerd and Frank’s probably the most rash person here. We’re all gonna end up getting ourselves killed one way or another.” In the background, Frank watched Josh’s face fall as he listened to Ryan’s speech. “As long as we’re fighting back, we’re gonna die. I think, the best case scenario is you dying with us, Mikey. Because they can’t use you if you’re gonna. So keep fighting back and die in the process. That’s the only way. You either die a hero, or you give in and end the world.”

“I’m not gonna give in,” Mikey said.

“Then stop saying you don't have a choice,” Ryan replied. “Everyone has a choice. Even monsters.” He nodded and shifted his stance. “Let’s get back on track. How do we figure out what’s up with Nobody? And what does she have planned? Fucking Andy and his goons aren’t that big of a threat since you fucking owned their asses. We’ve really just got Nobody to worry about. And Lucal. But he hasn’t shown his face.”

“If we want to find Nobody, we should go to the church,” Gerard suggested.

“What the fuck, I’ve told you guys not to go to the church,” Mikey huffed.

“We went and I got possessed,” Ryan told Mikey. “I think we have more reason than you to not want to go. But we should anyways. Maybe, if we can get in a dream together, we can fight back.”

“I don’t want to be squashed again,” Frank groaned.

“I don’t think she’ll use the same trick twice.” Mikey smiled tightly to Frank, sympathetic in all the right ways. “She’s not the type. She seems like she’s all about impressing people, whether it be those above her, those below, or her victims. I doubt she’d want to bore you.”

“Why did you have a hand?” Frank asked. “Like, that giant fucking hand. Why was that in your head, Gee?”

Gerard shrugged. “I just.. I would have these nightmares as a kid. I would be small, tinier than a bug. People would try to squash me, but the whole world would be dark so I couldn’t see it coming most of the time. I’d have hands coming out of the darkness left and right, and I’d have to keep trying to run. It was probably this weird psychological fear thing I had.”

“Feelings of insignificance,” Ryan supplied. “You probably felt like you couldn’t change anything in the world. Meaningless. At least, that’s what you told me when we were actually friends.” Ryan shook his head. “It’s dreams. Just dreams. They don’t mean anything.”

“What do you dream about?” Frank asked. 

Ryan narrowed his eyes at Frank. “That whole don’t ask me questions, thing? That applies in the waking world too.”

“Are your dreams that bad?” Frank pressed recklessly. Ryan’s hand twitched and Frank flinched. He kept fucking pushing, and he knew that it was just cruel at this point, that whatever was happening in Ryan’s head was fucking him up so badly that he couldn’t linger on it while awake. Ryan was so fucked up. He still wasn’t dealing with his forced cannibalism, still wasn’t dealing with the aftermath of the town getting massacred, and still wasn’t dealing with his feelings for Josh that Frank was half positive Ryan felt guilty about having, let alone exploring. Ryan needed a day of sitting on the floor and just thinking. Frank knew they didn’t have that kind of time on their hands. 

“I’m all for the scarification,” Ryan told Mikey. “Give me the symbols. I’ll take care of it.”

“Wow, I cannot tell you how stubbornly I am not going to do that,” Mikey deadpanned. “You’re one bad event away from full on self mutilation just for the hell of it, Ryan. Burning yourself in the shower, staring at knives for a little too long. You have some serious mental issues right now. I’m not going to give you an excuse to hurt yourself.”

Ryan narrowed his eyes at Mikey and Gerard paled as Josh walked into the small group of conversation, looking to Ryan was cautious wide eyes. “I, uh… Breakfast is ready. Are we gonna do another team building exercise, or was that just a joke?”

Ryan didn’t say anything and brushed past Josh, just a gentle touch of their shoulders, like he didn’t want to be an asshole — he just wanted to touch Josh in the most non-obvious way he could. Ryan left the room and went down the hall, disappearing into Frank’s bedroom.

Gerard spoke shakily. “Is he really hurting himself?”

Mikey nodded, looking between them all. “Have you guys just thought I’ve been following him into the bathroom for shits and giggles? He’s been burning himself in the shower, making the water way too hot. And I’m pretty sure he’s contemplating something a little more permanent in the self harm department. I know you guys need him and shit. He’s your leader. But he’s seriously fucked right now. And you’ve got to cut him some slack before he snaps.”

“How do we cut him slack when he’s the one taking charge?” Frank asked, a little frustrated. “It’s not like we asked for him to do this for us.”

“Does that matter?” Mikey snorted. “It’s how things work now. Why don’t you just have some sympathy and start making sure he doesn’t slit his wrists. It’s not like he consciously wants to hurt himself for the pain of it. It’s not a venting thing either. It’s a legitimate punishment. He is punishing himself.” He looked between them again. “Make sense?”

“We shouldn’t be leaving him alone,” Josh said, looking like he wanted to run to Frank’s room. “God, was it that bad? The possession? He hasn’t told me anything.”

“He hasn’t told us much either,” Gerard sighed. “We just know what we saw.”

“He fucking ate a person,” Frank said.

“So did you,” Ray reminded him.

“He shoved the guts into my mouth, I couldn’t do anything,” Frank defended.

“The more you guys rehash that hell, the less likely Ryan’s going to be able to move past this,” Gerard chided, frowning at them. “He’s trying, okay? We can all see that. Ryan’s trying to get better and he’s chosen a very self destructive way. Instead of trying to agonize over what happened, maybe we should direct him to a better coping mechanism.”

“And we totally know all about those,” Frank snorted. “We’re doctors, Gee, you got us. We know fucking everything.” Gerard gave Frank the stink eye and Frank was instantly subdued by his boyfriend’s disapproval.

“I want to help him,” Josh said. “So, uh… I’m gonna go do that.” He nodded stiffly to all of them. “I’m gonna talk to him about his favorite books. And I’m gonna be nice to him. You guys enjoy your breakfast.” He left in a rush, looking almost embarrassed. Frank thought it was oddly sweet. Josh didn’t have the same sort of baggage they all had associated with Ryan’s possession. He could treat Ryan with the kindness Ryan probably deserved. 

“I wish I’d read up on PTSD instead of demons,” Gerard mumbled, looking towards Frank’s room like he wanted to follow, but knew he shouldn’t. Frank pulled him to the kitchen and they ate breakfast in relative silence. Fifteen minutes later, Ryan came back, out of Frank’s room, his expression stiff. 

“We’re leaving for the church in an hour,” he told all of them. Josh showed up over Ryan’s shoulder, skin oddly ashen. Frank wondered what Ryan had told him. “Get ready.”

. . .

“I don’t like this,” Tyler said as he drove everyone to the church in his mom’s minivan. He’d taken the keys after she’d disappeared and had volunteered to take everyone to the church, since the minivan could hold way more than the usual three-to-barely-four that Ray’s truck could manage. And if they left someone in the car, they likely wouldn’t end up banished into the forest without anyone coming to save them like last time. “I can’t believe Ryan was the one to suggest it.”

“Ryan’s always done what he needs to do, no matter the consequences,” Gerard said, watching Ryan carefully. Ryan was sitting in the front seat with his eyes out the window, watching the woods like he expected to see someone or something running alongside the car. He was being resolutely silent. It was making Frank nervous. He reached across the gap between the middle passenger seats to take Gerard’s hand. Gerard smiled tightly to him, then glanced to the back, where Ray, Mikey, and Josh were all seated. Everyone was tense. You could cut the tension with a knife. While only Ray and Frank and Ryan really knew the worst of what could happen in the church, everyone else knew through association. They’d at least seen or heard of what had become of Ryan. They knew how fucking dangerous this was. 

It was why Ryan had firmly insisted on Tyler and Josh staying in the car. Tyler hadn’t put up much of a fight, but Frank could tell Josh was still sulking. Frank wished he could explain to Josh that telling Josh to stay away from the church was Ryan’s misguided way of suggesting that he felt something way more than platonic for Josh. Ryan’s boyfriend had fucking killed himself because of these things, Frank didn’t blame him for wanting to keep Josh as far as away from these things as fucking possible. 

“You have some way to defend yourselves, right?” Gerard asked. 

“I have my dad’s gun in the front right console,” Josh said from the back. 

Ryan pulled his attention from the window to open the console and pulled the handheld from it, looking it over. “Do you know how to use this?” he asked, glancing back in time to see Josh shake his head. “Do you at least know how to fire it?” Josh nodded. Ryan released the magazine and saw the clip was loaded, then slipped the magazine back into the handle and pulled back on slide, letting it snap back into place. “It’s loaded,” he told Josh and Tyler pointedly. “The trigger safety means you don’t have to manually undo the safety on the gun. Just point and shoot when you’re ready. You’ve got eight rounds in this — don’t waste them.”

“Holy Full Metal Jacket,” Mikey snorted. “Forgot your dad turned you into his own little soldier. What was your range score? Next to near perfect, of course. I’m sure you’ve gotten a lot of a reason to know how to clean eight different types of rifles.”

“Did me a lot better than your comic books,” Ryan shot back. 

Mikey snickered and kicked the back of Frank’s seat. “I’m sure you and I have learned plenty of useful shit from comics,” Mikey said. “Like how there’s always an alternate universe for fucking everything you do. And there’s an opposite, uh… Shit, uhm.” Mikey snapped his finger, looking to Ray for help. “I don’t…”

“Effect?” Gerard supplied.

“Gender?” Frank suggested.

“Gender!” Mikey repeated. “Yeah, that word. Basically every superhero has an opposite gender counterpart. It’s good stuff. Like when IronWoman and Captain America got married.” Mikey was smiling, probably looking back fondly on the days he could sit down and read a comic. “Fuck that Steve-slash-Bucky bullshit. Stony is canon.”

“You’re ridiculous,” Frank giggled, really latching onto this chance to joke around before they dropped into the face of hell. 

“This is as far as the car can go,” Ryan said. “From here, we walk.”

Tyler pulled to the side of the road and put the vehicle in park. He glanced back at the rest of the passengers. “I better see everyone single one back in this car in two hours,” he told them, sounding worried out of his mind. Like a mother letting her kids hang out past ten PM for the first time without her supervision. “I swear, if you guys don’t all come back, Josh and I are going after any of you that don’t. Got it? We’re not having a repeat of last time.”

“Really wish I could’ve done that scarring shit to make sure I don’t get possessed again, but whatever,” Ryan grumbled as he got out of the car. “Probably would take a lot to threaten you guys out of this bullshit.”

“You’re not scarring yourself,” Josh called out the car door as Gerard, Ray, Frank, and Mikey all piled out. “Ryan, you’re fucking coming back to this car in two hours — got it?”

Ryan huffed. “Got it.” Frank blinked in surprise, a little shocked Ryan had agreed. But fuck, was he relieved. He exchanged shaky smiles with Gerard as Gerard went into the trunk of the car and pulled out their excuse for weapons. Gerard handed Ryan his baseball bat, handed Frank the crowbar, and then grabbed a milk jug full of water. Frank saw a rosary resting at the bottom.

“Ray blessed this for me,” Gerard said. “Which is pretty cool. Hopefully it works.” Gerard grabbed his golf club that was slightly bent at the head and faced Frank with shaky confidence. Frank went up on his toes and kissed Gerard, short and sweet, giving himself that jump in his heartbeat that served as a shot of courage. “We can do this,” Gerard said, squeezing Frank’s hand. 

“We can,” Frank affirmed. 

“Guys, we’re heading out!” Ryan called out, already in between the trees. “Fucking get a move on! We’re losing daylight!”

Frank kissed Gerard one last time. “We should give ourselves incentive to come back from this,” Frank told his boyfriend, only half joking. “So, uh, if we come back from this? I’ll suck your dick. Like, actually suck it, get on my knees and blow you. Have you ever been blown before?”

Gerard snorted. “Yes, I have.”

“Yeah?” Frank challenged. “How long did you last?”

Gerard sputtered.

“Fucking move, you assholes!” Ryan shouted, sounding a little angry.

“I’ll blow you,” Frank promised, kissing Gerard a third time. “Love you.”

“I look forward to it,” Gerard snickered. He swung his measly weapon, almost dropped it, and moved to follow Ryan into the woods with Mikey at his side. Frank followed with them, a chill falling over his body. But he was used to feeling a kind of cold that filled his veins, beyond ice. The cold barely even messed with him anymore. 

Ryan led them to the church without looking at his feet, knowing exactly where he was going. Frank’s side hurt fucking terribly, and he knew it was dumb to be walking like this, knew it was dumb to be going to the church, but he couldn’t let everyone go without him. He prayed he wouldn’t get tossed around and break the rib even worse.

“Do you remember walking from the church?” Frank asked, curious. And his question wasn’t about the dreams, so it was fair. “Like, people remember stuff from being possessed. Do you remember the thing going into your body? And you walking away from us? Do you remember going to the grocery store?”

Ryan was walking stiffly, like he was holding every muscle in his body as tightly as possible. “I remember everything,” he said. 

“Where did you go?” Ray asked, looking just as curious as Frank felt. “Before the grocery store? You had to have gone somewhere.”

Ryan stopped walking and Frank expected him to blow up at them. “…I went back to the church,” Ryan eventually said, reluctantly. “I was in the basement for a long time. I stood there and he…whispered things. To me. Just things. About fear. About Mikey, though he didn’t say Mikey’s name. And he, uh, like to feel me in pain. He talked about…”

Ryan shuddered and Frank waved his hand in the air. “You don’t have to Ryan,” he interrupted. He had an idea of what the demon had brought up to make Ryan suffer. “I really should stop asking you questions, shouldn’t I?”

Ryan chuckled sardonically and shook his head. His eyes were still empty. God, Frank suddenly understood why parents could be desperate to pump their depressed kids full of of drugs. Seeing someone you cared about so fucking lifeless was awful. “You really should stop asking questions in general,” Ryan said. “Makes you seem pretty stupid.” Frank just laughed and they started walking again, mood somehow even heavier. Frank really felt like he had to stop asking things of Ryan. 

“I feel like we should be playing music,” Mikey chimed in. “To pump shit up.”

“We’re already here,” Ryan snorted, gesturing ahead. Frank squinted and saw the white of the church through the trees. He grimaced and wished they had another mile or ten to walk. He hated that he couldn’t look back and see the minivan like he could see the church. It was like their only way out of here was a distant figment. 

“Are we all going down together?” Ray asked. “I doubt it’s a good idea to throw all our apples in the barrel.” Mikey giggled at Ray’s quaint saying and nudged Ray playfully. Ryan, though, was all business as they made their final approach.

“Gerard and Mikey are gonna stay above,” Ryan said. “Mikey, because I feel like they’re gonna treat us differently if we have him. Like they won’t try to come to us cause they know they can’t beat us as long as we have him. Gerard, because his head isn’t on straight. He can’t be doing anything with his head, including exorcising. But Ray is coming day because only he can exorcise, Frank is coming down because he’s got dream experience, and I’m going down because I’m the liability. I’d rather have the liability be in danger, you know? So they can’t grab me from upstairs and blindside you guys.”

“You’re not a liability,” Gerard huffed. 

“But do you agree with the rest of my plan?” Ryan asked. 

Gerard grimaced. “I don’t want Frank going down there either. He’s got his broken rib. That kind of stuff doesn’t just heal overnight, Ryan.”

“Frank has the crowbar,” Ryan argued. “And they only like fucking with his head, but they don’t control him. So if we need someone to bash a head in before Ray can exorcise Nobody, we’ve got Frank. We have no idea what’s gonna happen next. We need Frank.” Ryan looked to Frank. “Sorry. I wish we didn’t. I know your side must hurt, but—”

“I understand,” Frank interrupted, making himself smile. “You’ve got to make the hard decisions, Ry. I know you wouldn’t be doing this if you didn’t feel like you had any other choice.”

Something like relief washed over Ryan’s expression for a second before he covered it again with apathy. “Everyone ready?” Ryan asked, looking between them all. “Gee, Mikey, stay up here. Ray and Frank, you’re with me.” They went into the church and Ryan pulled up the cellar door with Ray’s help. Ryan stood back and stared down into the darkness for a long moment. Ray and Frank watched him.

“Are you sure you want to go back down there?” Ray asked gently. “No one will blame you if you say you don’t. After what you went through…”

“I’m fine,” Ryan said sharply. “Let’s go.” He spun his bat in his hand and took in a long, shaky breath, before dropping to the ladder and disappearing into the darkness. Frank figured Ryan went down quickly so he couldn’t give himself time to chicken out. Frank looked up at Gerard and waved before climbing down after Ryan. He dropped the last few steps and squinted into the darkness. Ryan was standing, stock still, facing a wall. Frank stared at him. 

“Ryan?” he called out. Ryan visibly jumped and turned to Frank. 

Ryan wet his lips, eyes wide like an owl’s. “Should’ve brought a light.”

Frank laughed nervously and agreed. “What were you staring at?”

Ryan bit his lip. “When I was down here, it had me clawing at the walls. But my fingernails wouldn’t tear or bleed or anything without healing only a minute. If you had a light, I’d show you where my nails fucked up the wall. I just, I’ve never seen a vessel heal after being hurt while possessed. But my nails, they were fine.” Ryan shook his head. “I don’t understand this anymore. I thought I did, but I don’t. I don’t understand a goddamn thing.”

Frank nodded slowly. “Just stay calm, Ry. We’ve just got to get Nobody and then we’re out of here.”

“I’m calm,” Ryan probably lied. Ray dropped down and shone the same shitty little flashlight around that he’d had last time. He waved it around and Frank saw the claw marks Ryan had been talking about. He tore his eyes away and looked down the corridor. Ray pointed his crummy light in the same direction. “The plan is to mess with the summoning sigil,” Ryan told them evenly. “I figured if we fucked with stuff down here, we fuck with them. So if we mess with the sigil, we should get her ‘cause I think she made this thing, at the very least.”

“And if someone bigger comes?” Ray asked. “Like the thing that the sigil was designed to summon?”

“Then we take that thing out too,” Ryan told them. “There is no option that involves us leaving here without taking down at least one of the larger pawns in this whole disaster. We’re taking down Nobody or Andy or Lucal. One of them is dying tonight.”

Frank shuddered and tightened his grip on the crowbar.

“Frank?” Ryan reached out to him. “Hand me the bar. I’m gonna pull apart the wood the sigil is painted on. There might be something behind it.”

“You wanna not only fuck with it, but fucking destroy it?” Frank asked, handing over the crowbar. “This is a bad idea, Ryan. It’s one thing to scratch a grave to wake the dead. It’s another to fucking crush it with a bulldozer.”

“Who to say we don’t need to wake the dead in the first place?” Ryan shot back dryly, stalking to the end of the corridor and widening his stance. Frank was blown away by how fearless Ryan was, standing over the bowl with the dead animal without hesitance. “Besides,” Ryan said as he readied his swing. “We’ve needed this apocalypse for years.” He swung the crowbar and twisted it when it was lodged in the wood, splintering the wall and pulling it apart. Ray and Frank both flinched. The second the sigil circle was broken, it started to glow, flaring up like a flame and then quickly dying again. Ryan waited to see if it would do anything else, but nothing happened, so he shrugged. “Guess it needs another hit.” He pulled the crowbar back again.

“You have no idea what you’re doing,” said a familiar, female voice. Frank didn’t want to turn around and see her. He knew Nobody was right there, knew he had a broken rib, and knew he had no fucking weapon. Frank knew he was fucked. Ryan turned, though, with Ray, and stared her down, still fearless. 

“Glad you showed up,” Ryan told her, sounding so fucking cool. “We need to talk.”

“You’ll be talking to your god once I’m done with you,” she growled. “I hope you like the dark.”

“I hate the dark,” Frank blurted out, looking up to meet Ryan’s eyes. “I fucking hate the dark.”

_He dropped into the dark and shut his eyes, bringing his knees to his chest, his hands to his eyes. He’d thought he was over this, thought he was used to the fear and the lack of sensation. He’d thought he was used to the feeling of falling. But the fear was back and churning his gut and he was scared he’d hit the ground and be alone again._

_Frank whimpered and crashed onto the floor. He was scared to pull himself out of the fetal position. The ground was cold and hard and he didn’t want to see what kind of hell he was in now. He hated Nobody. More than he’d ever hated anyone before._

_“Frank!” Gerard called out, sounding far away. Frank uncurled his limbs and looked up. He saw he was in a room, in a glass case against the wall. There were more glass cases to his left and right. He saw Gerard was in the case next to his. Ray was in the one to his left. Then Mikey, then Josh, then Tyler, and god, they were all so fucking fucked. He looked around, taking stock of who was here._

_“Where are we?” Tyler asked, voice trembling._

_“Where’s Ryan?” Frank asked as he sat up. Gerard was pressing his hands to the glass, and with a stricken expression, pointed into the center of the room._

_Ryan was lying in the middle of the floor, seemingly unconscious. Dim lights surrounded him like a circle. Frank had a bad feeling. “Wake him up,” Mikey said from Frank’s left. “We’ve got to wake him up.” Mikey looked to Frank. “We’re in the cages, but he’s the most vulnerable. And he’s also the center of focus. This is his head.”_

_“We’re in his head,” Gerard repeated, sounding fucking terrified. Frank was too. Ryan was so fucked in the head right now — he couldn’t imagine what hell Nobody could twist inside his mind._

_“Ryan!” Josh shouted from across the room, slamming his fist on the glass. The bang reverberated through all the glass cages, a visible shockwave rippling through the glass like waves. The sound of Josh’s voice slammed into Frank’s ears like a shockwave and Ryan jolted awake. His eyes darted all around, taking them all in._

_“Oh god,” Ryan choked out, like he knew exactly where he was and what was about to happen. He curled his knees to his chest and placed his hands over his ears. He looked up at all of them, his eyes pleading for them to save him. “I don’t want to do this again,” Ryan choked out._

_Frank jumped when something smacked onto the floor, blood and matter splattered out at a violent speed, pieces of human bouncing off the glass of his cage. Frank gaped at the carnage he saw on the floor, the unidentifiable mass that used to be a fucking person, splattered on the ground. Then another body hit the ground, near Josh’s cage, brain matter and flesh smacking glass with blood and guts raining down. Then a body by Ray’s cage, then by Gerard’s, then Tyler’s, then Mikey’s, then Frank’s again. Body after body hit the floor and Ryan started screaming, trying to cover up the sound of breaking bones and tearing flesh. Frank shrunk away from the glass and pressed against the concrete wall, horrified beyond cognitive thought. Tyler threw up across the room. Josh smacked his fists on the glass, over and over, screaming for Ryan, trying to break the barrier separating them._

_“What is this,” Gerard sobbed, audible through the glass. “What is this.”_

_Frank shut his eyes, hearing the bodies drop and hearing them break on the floor, as fast as rainfall, over and over, blood everywhere, painting the world with plasma. Frank couldn’t take this anymore. He was going to go insane. They were going to go insane. Ryan was already insane._

_The drops stopped and the world suddenly went horribly silent. Frank opened his eyes, saw the blood dripping from every possible inch of the ceiling and glass. Frank could just barely see through the red, but he froze at what he could see._

_Ryan was sitting in the middle of the floor, still. He wasn’t screaming anymore. He was staring into space, into the only spot on the floor that didn’t have a body. It was right in front of Ryan, between Ryan and Josh. Frank held his breath and saw a body hit the floor. There was the snap of bones, that horrible noise of blood and skin smacking the ground like wet cloth, but then there was another noise. Moaning. Sickening noises, the noise of a human being who was still alive and very much in pain._

_Frank took in what few features he could see of the body that had dropped in front of Ryan. He had large lips, a big nose, and huge brown eyes. Half of his skull was caved in, he was missing an eye, his legs were snapped in half, he was a broken marionette of a person. He was Brendon. There wasn’t anyone else this could be. This could only be Brendon. Frank couldn’t think of a single other person Ryan would be having such hellish dreams about._

_“Ryan,” Brendon wheezed, his vocal cords still somehow intact. “Hurts…”_

_“Oh god, oh god, oh god,” Ryan sobbed, reaching out, scrambling through the bones and guts, gathering Brendon into his arms. “Brendon, no, no, no, keep breathing, Brendon, please, don’t leave me, don’t—”_

_Brendon coughed and blood splattered onto Ryan’s face, covering what little clear skin was left, getting in Ryan’s mouth. Frank shuddered and felt like he was going to throw up._

_“…did this,” Brendon was whispering, over and over. “did this,” he said. “Did this, did this, you…you did this.”_

_“Please stop,” Ryan sobbed, begging. “Stop. I didn’t…”_

_Brendon reached up with a mangled hand. “Betrayed me,” he accused, his hand pressing to Ryan’s chest. His fingers formed a fist and he pressed forward. Frank let out a cry of shock and smacked against the glass when Brendon’s fist actually began to sink into Ryan’s body, breaking past skin and bone. Ryan choked on blood and and his face contorted in pain._

_“Take you with me,” Brendon whispered. “Take you with me…”_

_Glass shattered across the room. Frank tore his eyes from the horrible scene and saw Josh had broken through the barrier. The second Josh reached Ryan, his fingertips just barely grazing Ryan’s shoulder as he slipped on the bloody ground, the world whited out and Frank knocked his head on the floor, then opened his eyes to see his old high school hallways. But he couldn’t see all the way down — only as far as a wall of fog in front and behind him. Gerard was curled up at his side, curled into him, trembling. Frank couldn’t stop seeing bodies hit the ground and break open like gourds in his mind’s eye._

_Ray was at his feet, Mikey close by, Josh and Tyler to his left. Ryan wasn't anywhere. Frank didn’t want everyone to be in his head like this. He was scared of what they’d see, but it would seem like nothing compared to what they’d seen in Ryan’s._

_“There were so many,” Gerard mumbled, sounding broken. “So many bodies…”_

_Frank looked over again and saw Josh was still covered in blood. He was about to relax when a hand grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him to his feet. Gerard cried out and Frank thrashed his arm out, his nail snagging skin. He looked and saw James with bleeding, empty eye sockets, and swung his fist instead. He hit James in the jaw and James dropped him to the floor. Frank scrambled across the cement and saw his crowbar, up against the water fountain. He looked to Gerard and saw James was trying to tear out Gerard’s scalp, but Mikey jumped over Gerard and tackled the blinded boy to the ground._

_“Frank, find Ryan!” Ray shouted as he scrambled to his feet. “We have to find the tear!”_

_Frank grabbed his crowbar and ran towards the fog at the far end, knowing the bathroom was the only place Ryan could be. Josh followed him, hot on his heels. “You find him, I’ll grab him and pull him out,” Josh told him, eyes wide and deadly, the blood on his skin matching his hair. Frank swung into the opening of the girl’s bathroom and stopped when he saw Nobody with her hand in Ryan’s chest. Inside, clutching what had to be his heart, because Frank could hear the sound of it beating._

_“I’ll kill him,” she said. She was standing above Ryan, who was on his knees on the floor, eyes lifeless. “I will.” She was staring at Josh, clearly seeing him as the threat. “I don’t know what you’ve done to have a hold over his mind, but I am the ruler of this place. I’m the ruler of dreams. I can make this into anything I want and I can, and will, kill him if you come any closer.”_

_“Let him go,” Josh growled. The walls surrounding them starting to shake like an earthquake. “You’ve put him through enough already!”_

_She did something inside Ryan’s chest and Ryan wheezed out a sound of pain. Josh flinched._

_“I’ll do worse if you don’t stop,” Nobody threatened._

_“You think I’m fucking afraid of you?” Josh snapped. “After everything I’ve seen? I’ve heard you assholes, I’ve heard the arrogant, half-assed, bullshit you feed into the heads for your victims. You are nothing without fear. And if I don’t fear you, you will never win. Even if you kill me, the fact that I never fucking feared you will be the biggest fuck you I can ever give you assholes!”_

_She twisted her hand again and Ryan shouted, awareness bleeding back into his eyes. A crash came from the hallway, then Frank heard James scream. Nobody cursed and disappeared in a blink. Ryan started to pitch forward, body a useless lump, but before Josh could catch him, arms wrapped around Ryan from behind and held him up._

_“It’s okay,” Brendon murmured into Ryan’s ear, a far cry from the broken body he’d been before. All of his limbs were back in place, the blood was gone from his skin, and he looked honestly beautiful in a way that made Frank think of angels. There was a glow to his skin and eyes, like something ethereal and supernatural. Frank couldn’t stop staring._

_“It’s okay, Ryan,” Brendon repeated, running a hand over the hole in Ryan’s chest. “I know it hurts. I know it has for a long time. But what happened to me was never, ever your fault.” He pressed his lips to Ryan’s cheek, and Ryan shuddered. Frank hoped Ryan was aware enough to know that this was Brendon. It had to be the real Brendon, too. No way could Nobody create someone that looked so intrinsically good._

_“One day soon, you’ll wake up and feel okay about being alive,” Brendon told Ryan. “This hole in your chest will be a memory. I’ll be a memory. And you’ll understand that you’re blameless in this hell. And when that finally happens, when you finally move on, I’ll be happy for you, Ryan. I promise you. I want you to be happy. No matter how many deaths that I die, I will never regret living for you. I’m just sorry I wasn’t there when you needed me the most.”_

_Brendon looked up at them, at Josh and Frank. “We’re the tear,” he told them. “Me, James — whatever is a mockery of what you truly love in the waking world. She takes shadows of the people you care about and uses them against you, but by using us, she awakens us. You know that we, the real people, would never hurt you. And that’s how you know the way to escape.” He smiled sadly. “Take care of my boy here, okay? He’s pretty overloaded with all that thinking he does. Just shut up his brain once in a while, yeah? And, uh, Josh, right? He loves you. Really very much.” The smile became shaky. “Don’t let my shadow ruin his life. Your life. Get him out of here. Out of his head.”_

_“How do we get out?” Josh demanded. “Short of fucking killing you guys.”_

_Brendon laughed, and Frank was startled by how uplifting the sound was. Brendon had probably been really good for Ryan when he’d been alive._

_“You’re gonna have to kill one of us,” Brendon told them, expression growing heavy. “It can be me, if you’d like.”_

_“No,” Frank denied instantly. “We can’t do that to Ryan.”_

_Mikey burst into the bathroom, panting for breath. He saw Brendon and nodded stiffly. “Move on once we’re out of here,” he told the boy. “You got Ryan?”_

_“We’ve got Ryan,” Josh affirmed, stooping to sit in front of Ryan. He hesitantly put an arm around Ryan’s other side with Brendon. Brendon smiled across from Ryan to Josh, something like a psychic connection passing between them through their eyes. Shared love for the same boy._

_“I have no idea how this dream bullshit works,” Mikey told Frank._

_“Leave it to me.” Frank stood and swung the crowbar, taking in a large breath to steady himself. “Gotta say goodbye to an old friend.” He stepped out of the bathroom and into the carnage to see James kicking at Ray while Tyler held the back of his shirt and fought against hands coming from the fog that had shrunk closer. Gerard was gone, too, nowhere to be seen, and Frank’s chest tightened as he looked over the face of his friend, eyeless and insane. “James,” he said calmly, wearing a mask of confidence._

_James turned on his heels to face Frank, knuckles dripping with Ray’s blood. The superhuman strength Frank had experienced in his own personal dream had carried into this one. James lifted Ray by the front of his shirt and threw Ray against the wall. “I’m six feet under and you didn’t even come to say goodbye,” James told Frank as Mikey dove into the fog, presumably to find his brother. “What kind of friend turns his back like that? What kind of boyfriend?”_

_“You’re not James,” Frank said, forcing confidence. “James would never hurt anyone.”_

_“Of course I’m James,” James said with a twisted smile. “How else would I know the best way to kill you without putting a wound on your body?”_

_Frank approached James, crowbar resting at his side. “I don’t know if the real James can hear me,” he said. “And I pray to god he can’t, cause I know what that means. But if you can, James? I know this isn’t you.” Frank smiled sadly and stood in front of the doppelgänger that he felt nothing but hatred for. “I won’t let this thing go around with your face any longer.”_

_“You’d kill your best friend?” James asked, seeming so confident that Frank wouldn’t. “Imagine the guilt, Frankie. The nightmares. You’ll never forget the sound of my screams. You think you can kill your lover?”_

_“I could never kill James,” Frank replied. “But you? I can make an exception.”_

_He brought up the crowbar like he was stabbing with a knife, straight through James’s jaw, through his tongue, through his brain. James’ body changed_ into the body of a decayed little girl, her eyes wide and shocked. She was at least a foot off the ground, held up by Frank’s crowbar through her fucking head. Her legs kicked uselessly in the air and she gargled indistinguishable words. Frank saw he was standing in the middle of the burnt down church, the ceiling sagging overhead, half burnt Jesus looking down at the demon he had skewered.

“Fucking finally,” Mikey said, getting up from the floor of the church. His hand flew out and sealed over Nobody’s pierced head. “You? Fuck off.” Nobody screamed, her eyes rolled into the back of her head, and darkness poured from her mouth, sinking into the floor. Frank wasn’t even touched with the cold of the exorcism. The crowbar fell from his grip as her deadweight finally became too much for him to hold up. She hit the floor and crumbled. Frank turned around to make sure everyone had made it back. His rib screamed pain to him, now something he should worry about since he was no longer in the dream. 

“Where are Tyler and Josh?” he asked a little breathlessly. He felt off after being flung out of a dream and not waking up naturally like everyone else. Ryan was lying on his side and not moving. Frank couldn’t imagine what was going on in his head. The insanity whirling around inside. Frank could hear the bodies dropping still.

“I hope they’re back at the car,” Mikey said, cautious. “Ray, can you carry Ryan?” Ray nodded as he rubbed at his eyes, expression drawn. Fuck, they had all seen some shit in Ryan’s head. Ray went to lift Ryan, but Ryan was suddenly up and on his feet. He didn’t look anyone in the eye and stepped over the slowly-waking Gerard to leave the church in a rush.

“Fuck,” Frank cursed before running after Ryan with a limp. The tug at his side with each step made it hard to breathe. “Ryan! Come back!” He caught up with Ryan and took his hand. “None of us think you’re bad,” he said, going with the first thing that came to mind. “None of us are gonna look down at you. You’ve seen shit. We can’t blame you for being so messed up. Please don’t run from us.”

“Nobody told me she’s going to kill Josh,” Ryan said, words rushed. “We have to get to Josh and Tyler first.”

“Oh fuck,” Frank blurted out. “Run ahead. We’ll catch up.” He turned back to the church, walking backward and shouting, “they’re gonna kill Josh!” It only took a few seconds before Gerard, Ray, and Mikey were out the doors and following them. Ryan picked up the pace, heading into the woods. Frank forced himself through the pain and ran after him. Through the trees, he could gradually see more and more of the minivan, more and more of the blue of Josh’s sweatshirt. They broke through the trees, and Frank and Ryan skidded to a stop. Ryan’s hand flung itself into the air, a belated attempt to stop Josh even though Josh was already doing it. 

“Put the gun down,” Ryan choked out. 

Josh was holding his uncle’s handgun to his head. “I can’t,” he choked out. “I’m not… I can’t put it down. Please help me.”

Frank looked to the side and saw Andy’s body lying on the ground, probably dead. That meant that whoever had been possessing Andy was now inside Josh, forcing the gun to his head. Tyler was pressed against the side of the car, eyes flitting between Ryan and Josh, like he thought Ryan’s appearance would suddenly fix all their problems. 

“They burned me,” Josh said, holding out his arm. Frank wondered how much of his body he could control, or if Josh was even the one holding out his arm in the first place. A tear slipped down Josh’s cheek. Frank saw a symbol burned into Josh’s inner arm, a sort of sigil like the one down in the basement. “He can’t leave as long as I have this. Ryan, I, I don’t know if I’m gonna walk away from this one.”

“Holy shit,” Mikey panted from behind Frank as they finally caught up. “Put the fucking gun down.”

“What do they want?” Ryan asked, shaking. “What do they want?”

Josh shook his head, another tear falling.

“Josh — what the fuck do they want? How do I make them put the gun down?”

“They want you, Ryan,” Josh choked out. “I’m sorry. Please don’t do it.”

“What?” Ryan breathed. 

A man came from around the car, a harrowing face that Frank remembered too well, most because he knew what the man’s insides tasted like. “Father North,” Ray said, like he had to say the name to confirm the face. “How…”

“My son,” Father North sighed with a sympathetic smile to Ray. “You really never were the brightest.” He turned to Ryan, that wide smile sending a chill down Frank’s spine. Ryan sunk to his knees, slowly. “Hello, Ryan. It’s nice to meet you again.”

Ryan stared up at him. He was defeated. “Did you kill Brendon?”

Father North hummed and nodded. He seemed pleased with himself. “Made your mother leave. Sent the demon to your father. I’ve known you for quite some time, Ryan. You’re my ideal suit for the end of the world.”

“You want me as a vessel,” Ryan said. “Why?”

“Well, I can’t very well take the body of Gerard,” Father North sighed. “Can’t very well take Ray, as he’s a baptized member of the church. But you. Michael cares about you just enough to make sure you come to no harm. And you’re mentally twisted enough to be capable of tapping into my more destructive abilities. You’re a shield and a sword in one. The ideal body.”

Ryan wet his lips. “…Will you let Josh go? Without a bullet in his head?”

“Ryan no,” Mikey warned. Frank stepped forward to try and stop this, but Josh’s finger twitched on the trigger and halted Frank in his tracks. 

“He’ll walk away with only his mind in his head,” Father North promised. “All on his lonesome.”

Ryan looked to Josh, something like love shining in his eyes. Frank knew that their weaknesses for the people they loved would be the end of their lives. “I’ll do it,” Ryan croaked. “I’m yours.”

Father North laughed, opened his mouth, and darkness swallowed the world one last time.


	17. Being Willing to Do Anything

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> begin the healing process and fend off the nightmares

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> betaed by the HalseysChemicalRomance

He sat up on the side of the road and looked across his knees to see Josh. The gun was lying at Josh’s side. There was a hush lying over all of them, even though they were very much awake. Andy Dun’s body was gone. Father North’s body was slumped on the ground, well and truly and finally dead. 

Ryan was gone.

Frank’s hand twisted into a fist in the grass and dirt beneath him and he stiffened his jaw, feeling absolute hatred for these monsters. When they’d talked about priming Ryan, grooming him for this event, Frank had never imagined Ryan had been a desired vessel, but it made sense now that he knew. And it was so horribly unfair for Ryan. To have been fucked with and twisted and destroyed just to be made into something these demons wanted to use. Ryan had been manipulated since he could walk. It made Frank sick.

Gerard looked between all of them on the ground, eyes landing on Josh. “…Are you empty again?” he asked, his scraggly voice a jarring break to the silence. “It’s just you in there, right? Or should we…”

“It’s just me,” Josh choked out. “Ryan.”

“We need to get rid of that thing on your arm,” Mikey said, crawling across the ground to reach Josh. He took Josh’s arm, all business, looking over the mark, expression darkening as he recognized it. “Ever sliced off your skin?”

“What’ll happen to me if I don’t?”

“Well, it’s a time bomb,” Mikey explained. “The thing is designed to keep the demon tied to your vessel. See this circle here, the way the line goes through it? That’s signifying the way the demon was attached to your vital organs, in a sense. But the second it willingly leaves you, you’ve got a timer on your body. Your head’s gonna explode in about eight hours.”

Josh stared at Mikey, like he was waiting for him to admit that it was all a joke. “Slice off my fucking arm if you want, just stop this thing.”

“All I’ve got to do is nullify it down to the muscle,” Mikey explained. “It’s only a skin deep charm. Once I cut off all the skin, you’ll be fine. Is there a rag or something in the car? To staunch the bleeding, cause dude? You’re gonna bleed like a mother fucker.”

“Just get the fucking thing off me,” Josh said. “It killed Ryan.”

“Ryan’s not dead,” Gerard said, sounding suddenly frantic as he went to the minivan to try and find a rag. Tyler wasn’t moving. Tyler hadn’t actually had any first hand experience with any of this bullshit, so Frank was prepared to give him a good day to get over being inside Ryan’s head. “He’s not, okay? He agreed, but that doesn’t mean he’s dead. What these things have been doing to him—”

“None of us blame him, Gee,” Mikey huffed. “Get me that fucking rag.” 

“What’re you gonna use to cut it?” Ray asked. 

“There’s glass on the ground by the car,” Josh supplied helpfully. “I think it’s from where I broke through that glass to get to Ryan. Which, uh, was all of that real?”

“Real enough to put glass on the floor, apparently,” Frank said as he moved to find a large enough shard for Mikey to use. It was good to have something to do. Something to take his mind off of Ryan and the horrible way he’d looked when he’d agreed to losing his body. The way Ryan had been ready to lose himself in the face of saving someone he loved. Then again, Ryan had already lost so many others — Frank couldn’t blame him for being willing to do anything to keep one last person alive.

“Clench your teeth,” Mikey instructed when Frank handed him a decent shard. He smiled tightly to Josh. “I don’t think I have to tell you that this is gonna hurt. Try not to swallow your tongue, yeah?”

“Just fucking do it,” Josh grit out.

Mikey nodded and Gerard moved to Josh’s side with an oil rag. Tyler finally sat up and shuffled to Josh’s side too, holding Josh’s arm so he wouldn’t move it. Josh looked to Tyler, a steely expression passing over them both. Frank could literally pinpoint the moment they both made the decision to stare down the barrel of a gun without showing a lick of fear.

“Do it,” Josh repeated, a lot more controlled.

Mikey nodded and slid the glass into Josh’s skin, moving slowly to avoid going too deep, flaying the flesh from Josh’s arm. Josh screamed once, but then fell silent, a vein popping out into his forehead, his face going red, but color draining somehow, at the same time. Tyler’s grip on Josh’s arm tightened and Mikey kept peeling back skin, pulling off skin for about three or for inches. Josh’s eyes fluttered into the back of his head for a split second, but he was still silent.

“Done,” Mikey said, slicing the last bit off. “Gee, cover it.” Gerard pressed the rag to Josh’s skin and pushed on hard enough to bruise. Josh let out a noise of pain, but that was it. He stayed resolutely conscious. 

“Good job, Joshy,” Tyler murmured, rubbing his friend’s back. “We’ll go home and we’ll clean it up for real.”

“Were not going anywhere without Ryan,” Josh said. 

“We have to regroup,” Frank told him. “We’ll go back to my house and figure out what to do.”

“We were just supposed to kill that one girl,” Josh said. “And now Ryan…”

“We did kill her,” Ray sighed. “Nobody is gone. Mikey and Frank made sure of it.”

“Still,” Mikey mumbled. “Doesn’t seem like much of a victory.”

“Get in the car,” Tyler said. “I just, we need to leave this place. If we can figure out why they wanted Ryan so badly, we can figure out how to fix this. It shouldn’t be so hard to get Ryan back, right?”

“A consenting vessel is pretty hard to save,” Mikey warned them. “Not to mention they probably did the same number to Ryan’s arm as they did to Josh.”

“We’ll figure it out,” Tyler insisted. “Get in the car.”

They all got in the car.

. . .

“Honestly, I’ve heard about it,” Mikey told Frank as he helped wrapped Frank’s side. “I’ve heard about this. There were whispers about a plan, a sort of strategy that had been happening since some poor kid was born. I’d honestly though they were talking about me until now. Never could’ve imagined that Ryan would be the target. Never could’ve imagined he’d have said yes.”

“Have you seen the shit they’ve done to that poor kid?” Frank said, wincing when the bandage was pulled a little tight. “Fucked his mom up, his boyfriend up, his dad up, then went after the next boyfriend. I’d have said yes too, you know. To save Gee.”

“You’d let Lucal possess you for my brother?” Mikey frowned, nose scrunched. “You guys are so stupid.”

“What the fuck, dude?”

“Gee wouldn’t want you to say yes, so saying yes makes you a fucking idiot,” Mikey huffed. “Gee would rather die than see that happen to you and that should matter to you more than anything. Just like Ryan should have known that Josh would never ever want Ryan to end up like he is now. You guys are a bunch of misguided fools if you think it’s okay to go against what the other person wants and pull the whole martyr bullshit. Not only do you go against their wishes, but you put everyone at risk.”

Frank narrowed his eyes down at the boy. “Look me in the fucking eye and tell me you wouldn’t throw yourself off a cliff for Ray.”

Mikey pursed his lips and didn’t say anything. 

“Fucking right,” Frank snapped. “So don’t fucking preach. All of us are too human to be given these decisions. Ryan did what was right by him and that’s what matters. Josh can handle this however the fuck he wants, but Ryan did what he had to do.”

“They wanted Ryan because they knew that I wouldn’t be able to kill him,” Mikey said. “And they’re right. I’m not going to kill Ryan. I know none of you will either. But if I exorcise Ryan, there’s a good chance that he’s gonna die. I don’t know Lucal, but I know he’s beyond the usual power of the demons we’ve seen. So that means Ryan’s heart’s gonna fucking stop. Or something equally deadly.”

“We’re not gonna kill Ryan,” Frank said. “We’re gonna figure this out on our own. And no one else is gonna die. Literally no one else is gonna die in this fucking town, you got me? No one’s gonna die ever again on my fucking watch. I’m tired of death. I’m tired of pain and I’m tired of fear and I’m tired of the dark. I’m gonna move to the fucking west coast and live on the beach and soak in the fucking sun every day for the rest of my life and all of you? You’re all coming with me. Every single fucking one of you.” Frank lowered his arms and turned to face Mikey, pulling on his shirt first. 

“You’ve got more hope than a fucking musical about orphans,” Mikey griped. “Look, Ray and I are gonna be in the books all night. Josh is pretty insistent on it. Can you take care of my brother? I know it’s a lot to ask, but he’s feeling Ryan’s surrender pretty fucking hard. And the shit we saw…he’s prone to nightmares. I’m pretty sure all of us are gonna see that shit forever.” Mikey grimaced. “And the sound—”

“That alone is a reason why you can’t fucking blame Ryan,” Frank defended. “We saw that once — he sees it every night. He needs therapy. He needs someone to fix his head. He’s fucking insane, Mikey, and in a really sad way. In a way that he can’t help. He’s literally fucking insane. One of us should’ve seen that sooner.”

“Pretty sure we did, and pretended we couldn’t,” Mikey admitted. “I think Josh wanted to try, though. Was why he was trying to get closer to him. I mean, that’s love, right? Doing the hard things for all the right reasons. That was what Josh was gonna try to do. But we kept shoving him to the side. It’s sad.” 

“It’s fucked,” Frank agreed. “But if you try to blame Ryan, I’m gonna be pissed. He’s been manipulated since birth. They’re using him and they’re doing it well. They’ve broken his mind.”

“A vessel with weak sanity often is more capable of tapping into the deeper, older abilities of a demon,” Mikey said. “That’s why most try to go for younger people, or teenagers, but if we were near an asylum or something crazy? We’d be overrun. It’s harder for demons to find a vessel than you think. There’s need to be a certain slip in the mind. An emotional weakness or something to make the mind, uh…obsessed, I guess. It’s a distraction thing. If the mind isn’t able to focus on itself in a healthy way, then a demon can get in. Make sense?”

“Like trigonometry,” Frank said sarcastically. “Or rocket science.”

Mikey sighed. “The mind is weak, but weaker when going through emotional distress. Ryan’s brain is basically a crushed milk carton at this point. His emotional stability is nonexistent. So Lucal can use the highest extent of his abilities possible while in a human vessel.”

“So this was a smart move on their part,” Frank begrudgingly admitted. “And choosing Ryan was because…”

“Because they couldn’t take Gee,” Mikey said. “And couldn’t take Ray. The only person I was close to aside from them was Ryan.”

“Gee can’t be possessed?”

Mikey shook his head. “Not so much, I think. Though maybe they’re just too scared to try. I’d probably destroy them if they tried.”

“Why won’t you do that with Ryan?” Frank pressed. “That doesn’t…”

“Because even if I fucked up with Gee, that’s my mistake,” Mikey said. “I know you wouldn’t hold it against me. I know you’d rather him be dead than being used, no matter how much it hurt. And I know Gerard would be okay with it too. But the idea of Ryan dying like that…” He shuddered. “You said it yourself. Ryan has been through so fucking much. He hasn’t had one truly good thing last for him since he was born. I can’t…I can’t end someone’s life in good conscious while knowing all they’ve lived is pain. I can’t put an end to that kind of life. I just can’t, as a person, you know? To know that someone’s only ever lived in pain.”

“Seems pretty selfish,” Frank said.

“Fuck you, I’m sorry I’m still human,” Mikey grumbled. “Just go fucking help my brother, okay? He’s gonna be screaming in his sleep, I just know it. You don’t watch bodies drop without having trauma.”

“All of us have trauma.” Frank gingerly pulled on his shirt. “I’ll handle him.”

Mikey nodded. “You’ll find us in the library in the middle of town. Gee’s got a great collection of books, I hear.”

“You sure it’s safe out there?”

“We know nothing about what Lucal can do,” Mikey sighed. “Nobody used to be our greatest threat, but she’s dead, so right now we’re in the dark. We just have to do what’s right for right now. You put Gee back into one piece while we handle the logistics.”

Frank nodded and left the room. He paused when he opened the door and saw Gerard sitting on the floor, his back to the wall, waiting. Gerard’s head snapped up when he saw Frank and he chewed on his lower lip. “I, uh. The house is pretty dark. I think the power’s out.” Frank knew the power was out — Mikey had been working on his side though the light of the full moon. They were lucky it was a clear night. “I kinda…the dark sounds pretty awful to be in right now.”

“We’ve got flashlights in the kitchen,” Frank told him softly as Gerard stood to follow. “What do you wanna do for the night?” He wasn’t gonna suggest any food since he knew none of them could stomach anything right now.

Gerard kept chewing his lower lip. 

Frank looked back to Gerard as he pulled out two headlamps and three handheld flashlights. “Gee? You gotta say something or else I’m just gonna put on movies you hate.”

“Can we build a fort?” Gerard asked. “And hide in it? It’s stupid, b-but even an open room like this one. It’s fucking me up.” Gerard was hugging himself. “The room…Ryan was in a normal room. We were in a normal room. Four walls, a ceiling and a floor. Any room can become the same as that room with just a sledgehammer.”

“It wasn’t a real place,” Frank tried to reason.

“Are you saying it didn’t feel real? That the sounds weren’t real? The blood? The fear?” Gerard was eyeing the room with paranoia. “I need something smaller right now. I need a tiny little room. I’ll go into the closet or something if I have to, I just, I’d kinda wanted you to be there with me.”

“Way to make me feel like a shitty boyfriend,” Frank joked, finally cracking a smile. He tossed a flashlight at Gerard, who flinched before fumbling to catch it. “Let’s build you that fort, Gee. I’ve got sheets and stuff.”

“Thank you,” Gerard said sincerely, giving him a shaky smile. Frank led him through the house, lighting up all the corners so Gerard didn’t stub his toes. As he walked through the house, he felt like he missed him mom. He’d barely spent any time here, barely spent time with her, but she was still his fucking mom. The fact that she’d been able to just leave him behind so easily spoke of how little she loved him. He’d apparently always been expendable to her — not worth saving. He wished he’d been nicer to her; maybe then she would’ve loved him and tried to save him too.

“We should use the sofa cushions,” Gerard suggested as they gathered sheets from the hall closet. “I know that Mikey has told you you need to focus on me. And, like, usually I’d fight that? But I really need some sort of help right now. I know all of us saw the same thing, but I…I’m selfish.” Frank squinted in the darkness and saw Gerard was hanging his head. “I’m really selfish, Frankie. I promise I’ll help you too, I just really need some help right now.”

“You’re not being selfish,” Frank told him gently. “You know Ryan better than I do. It makes sense that this would hit you harder.”

“That’s, uh, not really it.” 

Frank didn’t ask because he felt like Gerard didn’t want to talk about it. He went to the living room and started constructing a pillow fort, something he hadn’t done since grade school. He barely remembered how to assure the structural integrity, but he managed. He pulled out the butt cushions and back cushions. He built the walls with those, and knew it would be a tight fit, but he doubted Gerard was going to be picky. Gerard came into the living room then in some of Frank’s sweatpants and a large shirt. Gerard helped lie the sheets over the top. He chose one of Frank’s childhood bed sheets for the very top — it had a bunch of little stars over it. Frank smiled softly at the choice. It would be like lying under cartoon stars.

“Get in there, Gee,” Frank prodded gently, tousling Gerard’s hair while he was the only one standing. Gerard looked up at him with dark, soft eyes. His pressed his head into Frank’s hand, his expression almost timid, or at least breakable. Frank knew that he had to be careful tonight. Gerard was just too fucking tremulous. 

“Gerard,” He murmured, still petting Gerard’s hair. “Get in the fort.” Gerard nodded silently and crawled into the fort, letting the pillow case doorway they’d made fall shut behind himself. Frank stood outside, wondering if he should grab snacks or anything. He ended up grabbing two water bottles instead and crawled under to join Gerard.

There was very little room. The fort was only about ten feet in, enough for them both to lie on the floor side by side with enough room for one another person, and the “ceiling” was high enough for Frank to sit up slouched without his hair brushing the top. Gerard was curled up in the furthest corner, shining his light up at the cartoon stars, his lower face hidden by his knees. There was a softness to him, a fragility that made Frank’s heart clench. He crawled closer to Gerard and cupped Gerard’s cheek in one hand, pulling the boy from the stars to his lips.

“We’re safe,” he promised. “I love you.”

“Ryan…”

“We can’t help Ryan,” Frank told him, agonized by the fact. “They’re working on it as we speak, but they don’t need six people bent over books. Three or four is more than we need. I’m here to make sure you’re in one piece.”

“Fucking pathetic, don’t you think?” Gerard smiled brokenly. “All of us are suffering, but I’m the one asking the world to stop. Can’t even put Ryan first.”

“You would if I weren’t forcing you into this fucking dumb ass pillow fort,” Frank snorted. “Stop beating yourself up babe, please. I hate seeing you like this.” Frank kissed Gerard again, a sweet touch of their lips. “You’re important to me. I want to keep you safe. Want to keep you happy. Your brother’s awake — if I could pull you from this fight entirely, I would, but I know you’d fight me every step of the way.”

“I would fucking strangle you,” Gerard agreed weakly. He pressed their foreheads together, breathing Frank in, eyes shut and looking grievously beautiful to Frank. He hated that he found Gerard at his most gorgeous when he was moments from breaking down and bursting into tears. Then again, it was also one of the few times Frank felt useful. Caring for Gerard and when he’d killed Nobody. That was the only time he’d ever felt like he was worth something. 

“What’re you thinking about?” Gerard asked. His eyes were open again and Frank struggled to think of a lie. But nothing came to mind. He was terrible at lying to Gerard, especially when they were so close and he felt like Gerard could see into his damned soul. So instead of lying, he kissed Gerard again, but with more purpose. He pressed deeper into the touch, tasting Gerard, parting his lips and sliding his tongue into Gerard’s mouth.

Gerard gasped softly and shuddered, meeting Frank’s lips and doing his best to reciprocate. His rested his hands on Frank’s thighs, letting Frank dominate the kiss. He gave a soft sigh, but Frank didn’t want Gerard to fall asleep on him. He nipped Gerard’s lower lip and then grabbed Gerard’s crotch, taking Gerard into his fist and making his intentions clear.

Gerard’s eyes went wide and he pulled away. “Y-you want…”

“Ever been fucked?” Frank asked, grinning toothily, knowing the answer.

Gerard shook his head. “But I was planning on it.” He reached under one of the softer pillows they’d lied on the floor for cushioning and pulled out the lube Frank kept in his bedside table for masturbation. Frank chortled and shook his head, kissing Gerard again.

“I fucking love you, you idiot,” he said fondly. Gerard giggled, looking proud of himself. “Take your pants off,” Frank added. “I know it’s your first time, and I really wish we could make this a little more romantic, but we don’t have a lot of time.”

“Are you kidding me?” Gerard asked, sitting back and wiggling out of his pajama pants. “You’re gonna fuck me under the stars. That’s beautiful, Frankie.” He cast his eyes up at the sheets Frank had slept on when he was seven and then winked down at Frank. Frank reached out and took a fistful of Gerard’s hair, dragging him in for a sloppy kiss. He pushed Gerard back down onto the floor and straddled his thighs, groping his crotch. Gerard squirmed and tried to kiss Frank back, but the more Frank touched him, the less capable Gerard became. Frank ended the kiss entirely and pulled Gerard’s cock from his boxers. 

He sat back and looked over Gerard’s cock, marveling at how it rested in his hand, already half hard. He pumped Gerard’s it, watching as Gerard moaned and looked up through his lashes at Frank with dark eyes, like he was getting off on seeing Frank get him off. “Shit, Frank,” Gerard groaned, letting his head drop back. “You’re really good at that…”

“I get plenty of practice,” Frank snorted. He pumped Gerard's cock until he was standing at full mast, throbbing. Gerard was a squirming mess beneath him, mumbling softly, random little words that Frank couldn’t make out. Frank kept touching him, letting Gerard fill his hand, watching the way Gerard’s hips hitched upwards. It was fascinating, to be able to play Gerard like an instrument. Gerard’s moans got higher and higher in pitch, but Frank barely noticed as Gerard’s cock began to leak precum, making Frank’s motions slick and quick. Gerard started to chant his name, and Frank only stopped once he felt Gerard’s cock throb.

“No, no, no!” Gerard gasped, hips thrusting up into nothing. Frank palmed his own crotch. He hadn’t realized how close Gerard was. Now he was tempted to bring Gerard to the edge, over and over, until Gerard was begging him to cum. His mind raced with ideas, but he knew to save those for later. This was Gerard’s first time with another boy. He didn’t deserve to be out of his mind and degraded in the most pleasurable way.

“Ever fingered yourself?” Frank asked softly, hooking his fingers in the hem of Gerard’s boxers and pulling them down off his thighs. Frank moaned softly at the sight of all that soft skin, watched the way the flesh jiggled and trembled as Gerard struggled to leave the edge of orgasm. “God, Gee, your fucking ass. Your legs. Your everything.” He moved down and ducked his head, kissing Gerard’s thighs and sinking his teeth into the sensitive flesh of Gerard’s inner leg. Gerard cried out, his leg jerking, and Frank felt wetness in his hair. Worried that Gerard had cum, he sat up and looked to Gerard’s dick. “Jesus, you’re wet,” he murmured, pressing his thumb to the slit and smearing the precum around. “Is this normal?”

“Stop touching me or I’ll cum,” Gerard wheezed, reaching out to push Frank’s hands away. He squeezed his fingers around the base of his cock and Frank snickered. “You little shit.” Gerard chuckled breathlessly. “How could you do this to me? God, god, god. I can’t.”

“You’re such a fucking mess,” Frank moaned, running his hands up Gerard’s sides. “God, I wanna fuck you.”

Gerard whined softly in the back of his throat and nodded. “Do it. What happens next? Fuck, but you gotta be fast. I’m not gonna last.” He giggled, sounding embarrassed. “Please don’t laugh at me, Frankie. I’ve never done this with a boy. I-I’m pretty new to it.”

“I’m obviously not doing my job if you’re able to form full sentences,” Frank snorted, slicking up his fingers. “Spread your legs, baby. Just relax, okay? I’m gonna take care of you.” Gerard nodded and widened his thighs as much as he could in the cramped space. Frank bent over, lying horizontally across Gerard with one arm keeping him from crushing the other boy. He slid his slick fingers between Gerard’s legs, watching Gerard’s face carefully as he prodded his fingers gently at that puckered muscle. Gerard’s eyes went wide and his mouth fell open, a soft “oh” escaping his lips. 

“That feels different,” Gerard murmured, staring up at the cartoon stars. Frank nodded, just gently circling Gerard’s entrance with two fingers, wanting Gerard to grow accustom to the foreignness of Frank’s touch. Gerard breathed slowly, eyes falling shut. Frank bit his lip, then carefully slid one of his bony fingers inside Gerard. That tight heat was unlike anything Frank had ever felt and he couldn’t wait to get his dick in there, but Gerard’s reaction was priceless. He squeaked and kicked out his leg, his left arm slapping out and knocking Frank in the face like a slap. Then Gerard began instantly babbling apologies while simultaneously zoning out, his brain split between begging for Frank’s forgiveness and really understand the sensation of having someone’s finger in your ass. Frank was laughing and bent down to kiss Gerard, feeling those apologies turn into tentative moans as Frank fucked him with the single finger, then two. Gerard started to roll his hips down onto Frank’s fingers, mewling soft noises into Frank’s mouth. 

“Feels weird,” Gerard giggled, the laughter dropping into a groan as Frank slowly thrusted his fingers in and out. He turned his head, using his neck to lift his hips higher, like he knew he wanted Frank to touch somewhere deep inside him. Frank knew exactly what he wanted. He wasn’t ready to drop that particular fucking awesome bombshell on Gerard just yet. He slid in a third finger and went back to kissing Gerard, just letting the boy adjust. He rubbed Gerard’s inner walls, stimulating him gradually. He’d done this enough to himself to know what felt good. 

“Just breathe through this, baby,” Frank giggled.”You’re acting like you’ve never had anything up your ass.”

“I haven’t,” Gerard breathed. “Fuck, I… Frankie, can, can I have more? I’d love to have more, please. Something. Something bigger.”

“You mean a dick?” Frank asked, raising a brow. “You sure?”

“Want you inside me,” Gerard said. “Can you? Please?”

Frank’s expression softened and he bent over to kiss Gerard again, tasting the other boy as he pulled his fingers out. He reached down and took Gerard’s legs, bending them up so Gerard’s thighs were to his stomach. Frank hooked Gerard’s knees around his waist after sliding his own boxers down his legs. Frank’s free hand took hold of his cock, slicking himself up and then guiding his head to Gerard’s entrance. 

“You’re gonna want to take a deep breath,” Frank warned gently. “Tell me if it hurts too much. I’m gonna go slow.”

Gerard nodded, looking up at Frank with dewy eyes. “I love you,” Gerard said. “Thank you for loving me.”

Frank didn’t trust his voice enough to respond. He just nodded, heart clenching in his chest. Frank took in a shaky breath and then pushed inside Gerard. An inhuman noise left Gerard and Gerard’s nails dug into his back, tearing down his skin, causing Frank’s hips to hitch forward a little too much and he pushed all the way inside. Gerard gasped as Frank bottomed out, brow creased. Frank could barely focus through the tight pleasure to know that Gerard probably wasn’t having the best time. 

“Don’t move, don’t move,” Gerard babbled, and Frank felt bad, he did, he just couldn’t breathe, either. Gerard’s body held him like a vice. It was like his entire existence had funneled down into his dick and he couldn’t remember James ever feeling this good. “Fuck, Frankie, you’re—”

“Sorry, sorry,” Frank choked out, digging his teeth into his lower lip. He focused on the pain and stopped his hips from moving. “God, Gee, you feel like fucking heaven,” he whimpered. “Feel like nothing I’ve ever felt before, and I’m so sorry if it hurts, I’m sorry if I—”

“Move,” Gerard said. His neck had a vein straining and Frank wanting to sink his teeth into the skin. Wanted to leave his mark. He tangled his hands in Gerard’s hair, lowering his head to Gerard’s neck and shakily kissing the skin above Gerard’s pulse as he shallowly thrust his hips, just the barest of movements. Gerard was tight around his cock, a perfect warmth that felt so fucking human and alive that Frank wondered how the monsters would ever make him cold again. Gerard keened softly as Frank picked up the pace, gradually beginning to relax and press back down with Frank. After a few moments, he began to moan earnestly, reaching down to grab Frank’s ass and tug him closer, trying to add more force to the thrusts. 

Frank took the hint, grabbed Gerard’s hips, and slammed into him. Gerard cried out beneath him, but his eyes were wild and his hips bucked. He nodded frantically. “Again, again.” Frank nodded and repeated, ramming into Gerard as hard as he could without actually hurting himself. Gerard kept egging him on, though, begging for more, wanting Frank to go harder, faster, everything. He was so fucking demanding. Frank growled and sunk his teeth into Gerard’s shoulder. A tremble ran through Gerard, but it still wasn’t enough for the little fucker.

“You know what?” he panted, hovering above Gerard. “Ask nicely and I’ll give you what you want.”

“Frankie, Frankie, Frankie,” Gerard almost sang. “I want more, please.”

“Fucking right you do,” Frank huffed. He grabbed a pillow and shoved it under Gerard’s ass as well as he could. When he thrust back inside, he hit that bundle of nerves and Gerard writhed. A full body tremor ran through him. Gerard’s mouth was wide open, but he wasn’t making any noise, probably couldn’t beyond a strangled sound. His cock was leaking against his stomach and Frank smirked. “Fucking right.”

Gerard whimpered and lied back, pliant and accepting of Frank’s bruising thrusts after that. He just took it, let his body move across the floor with every thrust, his thighs and stomach jiggling. Frank wanted to bend Gerard in half and watch his cock disappear into Gerard, but knew he wouldn’t last a second if he did.

“Gonna cum,” Gerard wheezed suddenly. The sound of his voice, wrecked and broken at the edges, slammed Frank into him. He moaned and took Gerard’s cock in his hand, pumping him quickly as he neared his own orgasm. Gerard’s whines got higher and higher until he really was singing, and then he was spilling into Frank’s hand, all over his belly, spine curling and his eyes fluttering back into his skull. Frank came inside Gerard soon after with a grunt, hips stuttering forward through his orgasm, filling Gerard with his cum. He barely kept himself upright long enough to slide his cock from Gerard’s body before dropping to the side. Gerard was breathing slowly, staring up at the cartoon stars with a sleepy smile. “Very romantic,” Gerard whispered.

“Anything for you,” Frank replied softly. He grabbed his t-shirt and cleaned the mess from Gerard’s skin. He took the pillow out from under Gerard’s ass. “You going to sleep?” He looked up when he received no answer and smiled. Gerard was already passed out, breathing easily, looking peaceful as ever.

Taking a page from Gerard’s book, Frank curled up against Gee’s side and let himself drift off as well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> unfortunately, with the holidays and everything, i'm going to take a break from this story for one week. so the next chap will be up in two weeks. really sorry about that.


	18. Hold My Hand While the World Burns at Our Feet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lettie's on a road trip to see snow so HalseysChemicalRomance (Ash) is here to take over. Buckle up bitches, this chapter is a ride.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all! So, Lettie has entrusted me, Ash, the crowned beta, to post this chapter for y'all. I hope you enjoy it. Since I'm here, follow me on twitter @iamashleymoon and subscribe to my YouTube Ashley Moon Music! (Alright enough slimy promo) let Lettie know whatcha think in the comments, she loves it. xx
> 
> Song for this chap: I'd Love to Change the World (Matstubs Remix) by Jetta

“You fucking fucked my brother,” Mikey deadpanned as he and Frank crept around the quiet, dark town at two AM. “I told you to take care of him while I was with Ray and Josh, trying to find our friend, who is being possessed by some fucking demon megalomaniac, and you fucked him.” Mikey shook his head, carefully shining his flashlight on the ground so Frank didn’t trip. “I can’t fucking believe you.”

 

“He needed me,” Frank defended, looking around for the signs Ray had told them to search for. Look for dead vegetation, dead animals, or dead people. Apparently it took a lot to keep Lucal in existence, regardless of the power of his vessel, and Ryan was reportedly a really good vessel. The more emotionally unstable, the better, according to Hell. “I wasn’t gonna just turn my back on him when he needed me.”

 

“You don’t need to fuck someone to be there for them,” Mikey huffed, shining his light through an empty parking lot. “God, Frank, get your priorities straight. Ryan’s being mind raped and you’re getting your dick wet.”

 

“Didn’t you get Ray to fuck you? Like, that was the first thing you did when you woke up.” Frank wanted to make Mikey stop giving him shit. “I did what I thought was right for us both of us and I take full responsibility for that, but I’m not going to apologize. I did what your brother needed me to do. And none of you should make me feel sorry for that, especially if you don’t wanna make your brother feel like shit for existing.”

 

“Did you see that?”

 

Frank stopped walked, his feet scuffing on the pavement. He looked to where Mikey was pointing the flashlight and saw nothing. He honestly wasn’t scared of much now that Nobody was dead. She’d been the only one to prove to be a legitimate threat that they couldn’t just turn tail and run from. And Frank had killed her. “Dude, I don’t see anything.” He still thought Ray’s idea was stupid — granted, Lucal probably wouldn’t choose the police station as his main base of operations, but walking around in the middle of the night looking for dead shit was just plain dumb. “I wanna go back. It’s cold.”

 

“Shut up,” Mikey said, still looking at the same spot. “I’m serious.”

 

Frank narrowed his eyes at Mikey, but didn’t say anything. “Even if it is something, how the fuck do we kill it? We’ve got nothing.”

 

“It’s gone,” Mikey sighed. “We’re being watched, Frank.”

 

“We’re always being watched,” Frank griped. He was so beyond this bullshit now. They’d taken Ryan and the last of his fucks. The defeat Ryan had felt in those moments had spread to Frank, and the defeat had only barely been remedied by his night with Gerard. And now, even Mikey was fucking that up. “When do you expect to not be watched?”

 

“I wish I could be as apathetic as you and not give a shit, but I have people I care about,” Mikey snapped. “Let’s keep going. We need to find where they’re keeping Ryan.”

 

“And what’re we gonna do once we find that place?” Frank asked. “Twiddle our thumbs and ask nicely? Use puppy dog eyes and hope the Tin Man really does still have a heart? I doubt any of us are willing to do anything that could hurt Ryan. Which leaves us dead in the water.”

 

“The running theory is that since Josh was the reason Ryan said yes, he’ll be able to convince Ryan to say no,” Mikey sighed. “Once that’s happened, Lucal will have to vacate Ryan’s body and immediately find a new on. From there, we hope it’s no one I care about, and I send that fucker back to hell with a complicated ritual that unfortunately includes us making a sacrifice of our own.”

 

“I’m not killing anyone, and neither are any of you,” Frank said firmly. “We’re done with killing people.”

 

“Blood sacrifice,” Mikey clarified. “Like what Ryan did in the church. It’ll just take a little something from all of us. Blood letting, too.” Mikey bit his lip. “Should’ve let Ryan do the scarification thing. I know that now. I should’ve let him do as he wanted. It’s like Ryan’s got this sixth sense for awful things that are going to happen to him, something he’s always been able to do. I should’ve listened to him. Ryan knows best. Ryan really knows best.” Mikey paused and flashed the light into some bushes. “Fuck. I kinda wanna go back now too.”

 

“What, tired of people watching you too?” Frank snorted a laugh and kicked at the gravel of the expansive parking lot. “Everything’s gone to shit, Mikey. You know that. We’re better off scarring all of us. We’ve gotta figure this shit out, too. No sacrifice. No unnecessary risks.”

 

“No such thing,” Mikey murmured. “Look at that.” Mikey’s light landed on three dead birds, all in a small circle. Their wings were twisted and pointed towards the sky. Just beyond that, two dead rabbits. And barely visible, beyond that, more birds. Like a breadcrumb trail. 

 

“I vote we follow that tomorrow,” Frank posed.

 

“It’ll be gone by then,” Mikey said. “Wolves and shit.”

 

“Does Oregon even have wolves?” Frank demanded. “We’ll fucking die, dude. I’m not gonna die without Gerard.”

 

“Fuck off, all I can think about is my naked brother thanks to you,” Mikey snapped. “You’re either coming with me or you’re gonna explain to said brother why you let his little brother follow a bunch of animals completely alone.”

 

“Pretty sure you’re better off without me holding you back,” Frank argued, but followed Mikey towards the carcasses anyways. He grimaced and pinched his nose prematurely. Mikey nudged one of the distorted birds with the toe of his shoe. The chest cavity instantly caved in like a sand castle collapsing. Sticky blood popped like bubbles out of its heart and Frank almost gagged. He was a vegetarian for a reason. Even Mikey seemed a little queasy. “If we die, I get to blame you.”

 

“Shut the fuck up,” Mikey snapped, voice a low hiss as he went to the next carcass, then the ones after. “Fuck, why do they do this? What’s wrong with these monsters? They just fucking…do they even kill these things or do they just drop dead on their own? How does this work, Frank? Do animals have heart attacks? Can they have heart attacks?”

 

“I’m not a fucking doctor,” Frank huffed.

 

Mikey narrowed his eyes shrewdly at Frank. “Veterinarian. And fuck you. I wanted to be a vet. Before all this shit.”

 

“You did?” Frank asked. When Mikey looked even more offended, Frank quickly recovered. “I mean, all the comic books and stuff made you think that you would want to be some sort of artist. Or a writer. Or, like, director. I don’t know.” Frank grimaced. “We’re looking at dead animals, Mikey, and I’m a vegetarian. This is exactly what I try to avoid.”

 

“We can’t all have a clean conscious,” Mikey mumbled. “And I wanted to be a vet so I could actually save animals and keep them from dying instead of just avoiding them dying. That makes me better than your average vegetarian.”

 

“Do these lead to your house?” Frank asked with obvious alarm. Mikey squinted into the darkness. 

 

“I’m your fucking neighbor, it could lead to your house too,” Mikey said, standing on edge as he tried to see where the trail went without actually following it. “It could lead to your place.”

 

Frank paused. “…Hear me out,” he began. “What if…this is a trap.”

 

“God dammit,” Mikey cursed. “We shouldn’t follow this. We need Ray.”

 

“Unless this really does lead back to my place, where Ray should be.” Frank shook his head. “Dude, we could really be fucked right now. What if they’re all gone?”

 

“We’ve been gone for less than an hour!” Mikey stressed, though he seemed more and more unsure of the safety of their friends by the second. “Fuck, Frank, why the fuck is everything going wrong?”

 

“We need to run,” Frank said, already turning on his heel to run towards his home. The dead carcasses were fewer in between, but they were still leading back to Frank and/or Mikey’s home. Frank still knew that they were being watched, and now followed, and were definitely being laughed at, but the panic welling in his chest stifled the apparent shame. Fuck whoever was laughing at him. Gerard could be hurt. 

 

The animals, though, led to Mikey’s house. Mikey didn’t falter in his panic. “My mom’s in there,” he said, and that was when Frank understood that there was no best case scenario in this situation. Someone in Mikey’s family was in danger either way.

 

“Do you wanna get your mom or get Gerard,” Frank asked as he and Mikey stalled in their running, standing between the two different drives, the two different choices. Mikey tugged at his hair, torn. Frank knew he was. Either he went to Gerard to ensure Gee would be there for whatever it was, or he’d get to his mother sooner and possibly save her life. But failure to get help first could lead to her death regardless. “I’ll go to your house, you grab Gee,” Frank said, making the decision for him. 

 

“You’ll fucking die,” Mikey said, staring at the dead cat that was right in front of the drive to his home. He looked to Frank with frantic eyes. “My mom.”

 

“Standing around isn’t gonna do fucking shit,” Frank told him. Mikey jumped, then started running again, down towards his home. Frank cursed under his breath and went down the other drive, to try and find Gerard and Ray. He burst in through his front door, shouting for either of the boys. Ray tumbled out of the bathroom, his hair damp and his pants hanging low on his hips and unzipped. Frank could’ve laughed at him. “Mikey followed dead shit to his house and ran inside,” he told Ray in a rush. “He doesn’t have anything but a flashlight.”

 

“I’ll grab the gun,” Ray said, moving past Frank. Frank moved deeper into the house to try and find Gerard. He went to his room and found the boy curled up atop Frank’s bed, sleeping soundly. Frank’s eyes were drawn to the bruises on Gerard’s neck that he had left behind. More than anything, he wanted to let Gerard sleep. But he knew he couldn’t. He needed to tell Gerard about his mother.

 

Frank crawled onto his bed and jostled Gerard, waking him violently, yet quickly. Gerard startled awake with a cry, eyes going wild and afraid. “You need to go to home,” Frank said. “Your mom. Something’s in your house.”

 

Gerard let out this broken whimper, like he couldn’t stand to have more awful thrown onto his shoulders, and he crawled out of the bed, leaving the house in a rush. Frank followed, feeling more dread by the second. Mikey was silent in the house and Frank couldn’t hear the sounds of a fight. So maybe Ms. Way had been kidnapped? Frank was really just trying to think of the least horrible thing that he could hope for. He darted through the trees, following the sound of Gerard’s footsteps, only knowing a general direction while being acutely aware of what could happen to him if someone or something caught him alone in the dark. 

 

He saw a tiny, LED light from the window of Gerard and Mikey’s living room. He stumbled around the house and got inside. He then heard the soft sound of someone crying. Gerard stood in the doorway that led into the kitchen, and he was shaking. Frank didn’t have to see the kitchen to figure out what had happened. He just wrapped his arms around Gerard from behind and held him. Gerard was trembling, but the crying wasn’t coming from him. Mikey was sobbing quietly on the floor, holding his mother’s lifeless body. It was a sight Frank was tired of seeing.

 

He was exhausted by the concept of people dying. He’d been stressed out and scared for so long that he couldn’t even feel stressed out and scared anymore. He’d been run dry by everything and was now left listless and weary. He wondered if Gerard felt the same. Probably not. Frank still hadn’t actually lost anyone to the reaper yet. Had only seen the pain lived out vicariously through others. Through Ryan and Ray and now Gerard. It was a little disconcerting to know that he was already becoming so desensitized. 

 

“How long does it take to bury someone?” Gerard asked, his voice low. “Don’t want my mom out in the cold air for too long.”

 

“Are you okay?” Frank asked cautiously. He felt Gerard shrug and was a little disturbed by how very little Gerard was reacting to this. “Gee…”

 

“Nothing’s tying me to this godforsaken town,” Gerard said. “I’m going to miss my mom forever. But at least I don’t feel like I can’t leave here. Her memory doesn’t rely on this fucking hellhole. I’ll be able to take back what they took from me.” Gerard looked to Frank over his shoulder. “It’ll hit me in, like, an hour. I’ll be really ugly when I cry.”

 

“I won’t judge you for it,” Frank said, knowing it was a weak statement. Gerard moved forward and tried to pull his dead mother from Mikey’s arms so they could bury her.

 

. . .

 

Frank was covered in dirt. It was under his fingernails and in his hair. He had a bit of dirt in his eyes and he was grateful for all the rain in Oregon— it meant that the ground was soft and easy to dig through. Ray had gotten them the shovels, but Mikey had been a bit too hysteric to dig, so Ray and Frank handled it with Josh while Tyler and Gerard talked to Mikey. It was weird to watch the antichrist mourn his mother. Especially since the antichrist was never really supposed to have a mother.

 

“He’ll be okay,” Ray said. “I’ll give her a proper burial, ceremony and all. That’s what Mikey needs. Some definite closure.”

 

“You don’t get over the death of a parent with a single funeral,” Frank told him as they continued to dig. They had a rhythm going, in the tempo of the funeral march. Frank had that simple song playing in his head and it was fitting. He felt more for this woman than he’d felt for Ryan’s father, and that made him a bit of a monster. But Gerard meant so much to Frank — he couldn’t very well turn a blind eye to Gerard’s hidden suffering. “Fuck, I’m gonna tear my hands open.” His grip on the shovel was so tight that the wood was chafing his skin. 

 

“How did you find her?’

 

Frank shook his head. “Followed smaller bodies to the bigger body. It was freaky. Could’ve just as easily led to my house where we’d have found you guys dead.” Frank sighed. “They’re taunting us, Ray, you know that, right? Straight up manipulating us.”

 

“Ten bucks they made Ryan kill her,” Gerard said, speaking up from off to the side. “My mom was really good to Ryan. Especially after she found out what Ryan’s mother had been like. I’ll bet they made him kill her with his bare hands.”

 

“Keep beating him down so he won’t fight back,” Frank mumbled. “…Do you think Ryan will even want to survive this?”

 

Ray frowned. “What do you mean?”

 

“I mean would Ryan even want to continue living after all of this? He’s been made to do so many horrible things. The guilt alone would probably drive him to suicide, I think. I just, I think he probably would rather be dead. We’re so focused on saving him when he doesn’t want to be saved. For all we know, the second we somehow manage to get Lucal out of him, he could put a gun to his head and pull the trigger before we could stop him. Some people can’t survive things like this. It fucks them up so much. I’m trying to say that maybe he’s better off dead. Maybe this shouldn’t be a rescue mission, but a mercy killing.”

 

“Shut up,” Mikey blurted out, his voice strangled with tears. “Shut up, shut up.”

 

“I’m sorry.” Frank winced and went back to digging. He really wasn’t sure Ryan wanted to survive this, and he knew handling this problem would be a lot easier if they didn’t have to worry about keeping Ryan alive. It was cruel, but in their best interest. The world’s best interest.

 

“Out of all of us, Ryan deserves to come out of this alive,” Josh said firmly. “If he wants to die, then he can die on his own. We aren’t going to make the decision for him.”

 

“But if more people die at the hands of Lucal—”

 

“I’m not fucking killing Ryan!” Mikey snapped.

 

“Even if he killed your mom?” Ray asked. He was waist deep in the ground now, a weary expression that a person was expected to wear when they were digging a grave. Mikey faltered, eyes red and puffy. He looked at Ray like he couldn’t believe he would ask something like that. “Mikey, we don’t know how aware he could be. For all we know, when we say that he’s given up fighting, he could be giving in and doing some of this on his own.”

 

“I said shut up,” Mikey choked out. “Just, just stop it. Please.”

 

“I’m sorry,” Ray mumbled.

 

“I just wanna bury my mom,” Mikey said. “And I don’t want to blame my friends. So please, stop trying to put this all on Ryan. He had to save Josh, didn’t he?” Mikey looked to Josh, eyes watering. “A life for a life. I-I can’t… My mom is dead, and it was Ryan’s body, but that doesn’t mean that his decision was wrong. Okay? We all would’ve done the same for someone in our life.” Mikey looked down. “I would’ve said yes for you, Ray.”

 

Frank swallowed hard and shared a meaningful look with Gerard. He would’ve let Lucal take him for Gerard. He would let Lucal disembowel him over a fucking loop for the rest of the existence of the human race for Gerard. Frank just hadn’t known that Ryan felt that deeply for Josh. He’d never acted like it, though out of all of them, Ryan was the best at hiding the things he felt. Probably the best liar too. And after Brendon, it wasn’t difficult to think that Ryan would do everything he could to not fall in love again. Too bad that didn’t work out. 

 

“The world would be a much simpler place if we didn’t feel love,” Frank said aloud, feeling like he wanted to share his thought. “You know? If we just couldn’t fall in love. If we all were pretty much emotionally unavailable and could only feel to the extend of slight concern. Then we wouldn’t have any reason to fight each other. No wars and shit. Who the fuck is gonna die for a god they can’t love? I know people say hate is the reason why the human race is so self destructive, but love is just as fucked. Even the people hurting others do it because they love themselves more than everyone else.”

 

“That’s not an option, Frankie,” Gerard told him sadly. “But it is a nice thought.”

 

“Nice thought my fucking ass,” Josh snorted. “If the idea of humans not feeling love brings you comfort, then you’re fucked up.”

 

“You got any other bright ideas on how this should could be fixed?” Frank demanded. “Most sci-fi stuff shows the superior races to be above love. They're all just a bunch of floating brains or balls of gas that feel nothing except a need for intellectual growth. That’s the idea of human perfection we have.”

 

“Emotions are what make us human in the first place,” Josh shot back. “Without that, we’re fucking brains and balls of gas! That’s not human, Frank, that’s disgusting emptiness. When the human race becomes that, we become something no longer human. So unless you want us to die out, we need emotions.”

 

“Stop arguing,” Gerard told them. “There’s no point.”

 

“Is the grave ready?” Mikey asked, sounding like he just wanted the world to stop turning and for everyone to shut up. “She shouldn’t be in the cold like this. And if it starts raining…”

 

“You’re right,” Ray said softly. “We should hurry. Frank, keep digging.”

 

“Could only find two fucking shovels,” Frank mumbled. “Hands hurt.”

 

“Wanna trade?” Josh asked. “You saying that stupid shit got me all riled up. I could probably dig from here to New Zealand.”

 

Despite everything, Frank chuckled and shook his head. “Have at it,” he said, handing over the shovel to Josh, who eagerly stood. Frank climbed out of the four foot deep hole and sat by Tyler, as Gerard was busy soothing his trembling brother. “I wanted to say,” Frank began. “That it’s cool you and Josh stuck around. Even after I tried to get rid of you two.”

 

“You knew this would be a death sentence,” Tyler replied despondently. “You just wanted to keep people safe.”

 

“It’s weird. Never really thought that would be something I felt responsible for.” When Tyler looked confused, Frank went on to explain. “When I was a kid,I never wanted to be a superhero or anything. I didn’t want to save people like the rest of the kids my age.”

 

“What did you want to be?” Tyler asked.

 

“A garbage man.” Frank smirked. “The place of Jersey I lived in wasn’t very bad, but the rest of the city was a shithole, and it’s all people talked about. How bad the trash was, how terrible the city smelled, how the beach was basically AIDs central with all the hypodermic needles around. I wanted to be a garbage man because my mom was always so sad about how terrible the city looked. She’d grown up there. She would say she missed when she was younger and didn’t notice how bad everything looked. I wanted to be a garbage man so I could clean the city up and make it beautiful again.” His smirk became self-deprecating. “Pretty dumb, I know.”

 

“That has to be literally the sweetest thing I’ve ever heard,” Tyler told him. “Especially of a kid. Oh my god. I wanted to be a doctor so I could make money and not have to worry about not being able to buy food. You make my childhood dream look so selfish.” Tyler looked out at the two grave diggers. “I can’t believe this is what my life became.”

 

“It’s hard to wrap your mind around,” Frank agreed. “It’s a pity none of us dreamed of being a superhero. This is the closest we’ll ever get.”

 

“There’s a lot less color than I thought there’d be in a superhero movie,” Tyler commented. “A lack of jokes too. Marvel lied to me.”

 

“Unless this is DC,” Frank snorted.

 

“Fuck DC, Spiderman is the bomb,” Tyler said. 

 

“We’ve hit clay,” Ray said. “Sorry, Mikey. I know five feet isn’t the preferred depth, but…”

 

“Six feet deep was theorized to become the standard during the plague so the disease hopefully wouldn’t spread from the corpses,” Gerard commented, sounding like a history book. “Five feet is just as good.”

 

“Not like she’s gonna dig her way back out,” Mikey added, tears still somehow falling. He’d been asleep for three years. He had a lot of tears built up from over the years. “Help me lift her, Ray? Please.”

 

Ray climbed out of the holy, only his head and shoulders visible with how deep the hole had been, and went to Mikey’s side. Before lifting the body of Mikey’s mother, he took the younger boy’s face in his hands and lifted his head up to kiss him. For a broken moment, Frank could see the pain in being shared between them both, the give and take of agony that came from loving someone who was in immense agony. Again, Frank was reminded of how much easier life would be if they simply couldn’t feel love.

 

“Let me take care of this for you, baby,” Ray said softly. “Just let me take care of this.”

 

Mikey pulled back from the kiss and nodded, looking down at his mother. It was grotesque. They’d wrapped her in a blanket to hide the fact that she’d been torn open, but the terror was frozen on her face. It made the moment surreal as Mikey reached out to gently brush some hair from her face. Like it mattered. Ray gently took the woman from Mikey’s arms and stood, carrying her to the grave. 

 

“Wait,” Tyler cut in. “Shouldn’t we say something? As you put her in.”

 

“What is there to say?” Gerard asked almost dully. “We loved her and she’s gone. It doesn’t matter what we say. She won’t come back. And it won’t change the fact that these things are gonna pay.” He looked around at everyone. “I know we all keep saying that, but it’s the truth, now more than ever. They’ve taken so much. And I know how we’re gonna end this. Without killing Ryan.”

 

“And how the fuck do you think you’re gonna do that?” Frank asked, though he wasn’t sure he wanted to hear Gerard’s idea. 

 

“The spells they’ve been looking at have been predominantly angelic in nature, or the church working against the demons,” Gerard said. “But the pagans are the ones who have been working alongside these things. Wiccans and stuff. They’ve got spells. Things that are too dangerous for the average person to read, as they invite demonic presences by association alone.”

 

“Please don’t tell me you’ve been reading that shit,” Frank wanted to beg. Gerard winced and didn’t respond. “God fucking dammit, Gee.”

 

“They’ve got libraries on demonic interaction, it would’ve been dumb not to read this stuff! And they’ve got ways to dismiss these demons if they become too much of a threat. We really need that kind of magic right now.”

 

“I’m already the antichrist,” Mikey said. “Becoming a witch is just too fucking ironic.”

 

“I’m gonna be the witch,” Gerard snapped. “None of you are reading any of this stuff. I won’t let you.”

 

“Guys,” Ray interrupted. “Please. She’s heavy.” He sent an apologetic glance to Mikey. 

 

“Lie her down, Ray,” Gerard said. Ray set her down in the dirt, looking relieved. She must’ve really been heavy. Ray crawled out of the grave and took up his shovel, moving to cover her back up with dirt. Gerard stood and went to help him.

 

“I’m gonna miss her,” Mikey sniffled. “She was a good mom. She, she made really fucking awesome grilled cheese. It had ham squares in it and stuff.” Mikey wiped his nose with the back of his hand and tried to smile. “Tasted like fucking heaven.”

 

“She made her own french fries too,” Gerard added. “And I don’t know how, but cereal always tasted so much better when she was the one to pour the milk.”

 

“Remember when she tried to teach us to make scrambled eggs?” Mikey smiled over at his brother. “Remember how badly you burned them? Set the fire alarm off. Mr. Reynolds was the one to show up with the fire fighters. He laughed it off and tried to help her teach you.”

 

“And I burned the eggs a second time,” Gerard finished with a fond grin. “She was a good mom.”

 

“She was an amazing mom,” Mikey agreed, still crying gently. “Even after dad, she was so nice. She was tired a lot and she sometimes had a hard time getting up in the mornings, but she did her best. She was the best mom anyone could ask for.”

 

Gerard looked to his brother and then reached out to pull him into a hug. It was the first real gesture of comfort Gerard had extended to his brother asked from a hand on the back. Mikey pressed into his brother’s chest, like he was hiding. Gerard just stood there as long as he was needed as Ray finished filling the grave. “Wish we had something to mark this,” Ray commented. “Didn’t even bury her somewhere recognizable. There’s no markers or land masses that could lead us here.” Ray looked around. 

 

“We could mark up a tree,” Frank suggested. “Anyone got a knife?”

 

Tyler held out a Swiss army knife with a sheepish smile as explanation. “Don’t really wanna be caught unarmed ever again, right? May seem paranoid, but..”

 

“It’s a smart thing to have, however inefficient,” Josh said with the smallest teasing grin. “Came in handy now, right?”

 

“What do you want to say?” Ray asked Gerard and Mikey as he took the knife. 

 

“Uh,” Gerard said, looking like he was stalling for time. “Fuck, just, her name? Or just mom, so no one will come and dig up the body and think it’s a murder case. We should just put mom, right? And, like, a heart.”

 

“Don’t wanna hurt the tree too much,” Mikey said, his voice partially muffled by Gerard’s shirt. Gerard smiled softly and pressed his lips to Mikey’s cheek, calling his brother a sweetheart. A little surreal to hear it being said to the antichrist. Gerard pulled Mikey forward, shimmying across the dirt and grass, bringing his little brother to the tree. Together, they carved the simple word and symbol into the bark, murmuring softly to each other. Frank stood back, letting the Ways have their final moments with their mother. Ray and Josh and Tyler all stood with him, the silent onlookers of the funeral. 

 

Gerard and Mikey stepped back, Mikey whimpering as he rubbed at his face and Gerard wiped his eyes. 

 

From the trees, a deer stepped out, its elegant head pointing up at the sky, before lowering to regard them. The sun shined from between the leaves for a single magical moment. And for a second, it was like Mrs. Way had come back, to see her sons one last time.

 

Then the deer let out a horrible, pained groan, and collapsed to the floor. Its head twitched and its eyes rolled into the back of its head before a quiver snapped through its body like a gunshot and the animal stopped breathing. 

 

“Oh my god,” Tyler said, covering his mouth with his hands. 

 

Just to the left of the now-dead deer, a crow dropped to the ground, just as dead. “What’s happening?” Josh asked, as a bird dropped dead just behind them. Then another. Frank turned and watched as squirrels even ran up and seized before dying. They were all leading back towards the Way home. Frank’s eyes went wide when he saw a familiar figure, standing on the back porch.

 

A final raven dropped dead at Ryan’s feet. 

 

Lucal twisted Ryan’s lips into an expression Frank had never seen before. There was blood on his hands. A crack of thunder sounded overhead, and water burst from the sky, hitting them like rocks. Frank flinched and took a step back, taking Gerard’s arm to pull him back with him.

 

Lucal laughed at Frank. “You’re just so scared of me, aren’t you?”

 

“Fuck off,” Frank said lamely. He realized all of them were absolutely unarmed, when compared to what Lucal had to be capable of. He wasn’t even sure if Mikey would stand a chance against this absolute fucking monster. 

 

“What do you want?!” Josh demanded, the only person not to step back. He was stalking towards Lucal, and Tyler was only barely able to pull Josh back. It was like seeing Ryan’s face being used like a puppet had cleared all sanity from Josh’s mind. “You fucking asshole, you used me! Get the fuck out of him!”

 

“Josh, I’m sure Ryan appreciates your conviction, but that’s really not going to help,” Gerard mumbled, helping Tyler hold him back. 

 

“I’m here to give you all one last chance,” Lucal hummed, actually hummed, there was a tune to his voice and everything. “Extend the final helping hand, if you will. And you would be wise to listen.”

 

“You’re not him,” Josh seethed. “Stop using his fucking voice like you’re him!”

 

“God, that’s annoying.” Lucal threw Ryan’s wrist out at Josh, who lurched back like he’d been punched in the face. When he righted himself again, stumbling in the mud, Frank saw his lips were clasped together in a thin line. And when Josh brought up his hands to scrabble at his mouth with his fingertips, Frank realized Josh couldn’t open his mouth. 

 

“Parlor tricks, I promise,” Lucal told them. “The main event will be so much more mind blowing.”

 

“Tell us what you want,” Gerard said, stepping forward, but only a foot. He watched Lucal’s hand with wariness, probably hoping he’d be able to dodge whatever shit Lucal had thrown at Josh if he saw it coming soon enough. “I know you did this to my mother. And I know…I know it was to hurt Ryan, right? To fuck him up.”

 

Lucal rolled Ryan’s eyes. “You do realize you have the antichrist beside you, right? Look, I love this meat suit just as much as the next wide eyed teenager girl, but the human is of literally no concern to me. Ryan’s as good as dead. And even if, by some tiny sliver of luck, he regains control of this vessel? His soul is as good as dead. No heaven will ever accept a person who willingly gave in to a demon.”

 

“Ryan can be saved,” Ray spoke up. “God forgives and accepts everyone who repents.”

 

Lucal raised Ryan’s brow. “My dear, ignorant boy. Have you ever thought that maybe the devil is your god?”

 

Everyone was silent. “That’s literally too fucked up for me to think about,” Tyler said. 

 

“Michael,” Lucal purred. “You have to understand that fighting this? Us? It’s hopeless. Regardless of whatever scruples you have, whatever affections you hold for these people, they’re still going to die. And once they live out, at the very least, their mortal lives, you will be left all alone.”

 

“What?” Mikey asked, eyes going wide. “I’m what?”

 

“Immortal,” Lucal affirmed. “At least, for as long as we need you to be.” He made Ryan smile cruelly. “So it doesn’t matter if you love these people now. Once they’re dead, it won’t matter. Your need to save them will be null and void. So let me make you an offer— a sort of IOU. Once your brother and lover and friends are long dead, just decaying skeletons in the dirt, why don’t you join me then? The apocalypse has been waiting for centuries. Another meager lifetime won’t be much of a stretch.” He extended Ryan’s hand. “What do you say, Michael? Rain check?”

 

“Fuck you,” Mikey spat, his voice trembling. “F-fuck you! You killed my mother…”

 

“Just one less life for me to wait to end,” Lucal explained. “Really, Michael; after watching everyone you love die, I know that you’ll be much more inclined to help us achieve our goal. Should I maybe wait and offer this to you then? What do you think is long enough?” Lucal eyed Gerard with scrutiny. “Forty years?”

 

“Fuck you,” Mikey whimpered. 

 

“Fifty, then. And fifty-five for your defiler.” Lucal clapped Ryan’s hands, smiling wider. “It’s a date, then! You, me, and the end of the world. I’ll see you then. Try not to be tardy? For now, I think I’ll leave my mark. There’s a few natural disasters I have to put into motion before we can really be ready for your role, anyways.” He looked Gerard over again. “I know I said fifty, but I really feeling like he won’t live past forty-seven.”

 

“ _Fuck you!_ ” Mikey shouted. 

 

The world trembled beneath their feet, then heaved upwards in random places. Where Ryan had been standing, a massive mound of rock was jutting from the ground, breaking through the roof of the porch. Trees collapsed as the earthquake spread out around them like the ripples of a lake. The clouds above started to churn and spin in a spiral, leading towards Mikey from the sky. 

 

While Frank looked to Mikey in terror, Gerard looked to him in amazement. Spent, Mikey slumped, gasping for breath.

 

“Michael, Michael,” came Ryan’s voice from all around them. “You’ll have to do better than that.”

 

The ground beneath Mikey’s feet distorted like a mirror. Ryan reached out from the ground and grabbed Mikey by the shoulders. With a shout, Mikey was pulled into the floor, disappearing from sight. Gerard threw himself at the ground and dug for a few frantic moments before Ray pulled him back to his feet.

 

“Did he just kidnap Mikey?” Josh asked, able to speak. 

 

“Witchcraft!” Gerard gasped, looking to Frank with crazy eyes. “We need witchcraft!”

 

Ray met Frank’s eyes, both of their expressions grim as they nodded their agreement. “Witchcraft is all we have left.”


	19. Gather Around Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> betaed by the lovely **HalseysChemicalRomance**
> 
> song rec: _"Mad All the Time" by Waterparks_

“You’re not to look at these books,” Gerard told Frank with a harsh firmness. “You just fucking don’t.” He looked beyond Frank to Ray, Josh, and Tyler. “This will act as a death sentence to your soul. You, you’ll be off worse than Ryan.” He met each of their eyes individually. “Do you understand me? I don’t want any of you reading these things. The second your eyes go over these words, the devil will have his sights on you. And he’s a jealous thing. He’ll want you for his. So don’t. Fucking. Look.”

“And I’m guessing that you’re already damned?” Frank asked as he helped Ray fill jugs of water that Ray was going to bless. “But of course, no one else can be stupid and selfish — only you.”

“I’m pretty sure I was born damned,” Gerard sighed. “With my brother…there’s no way that I could be something worth bringing into a paradise, if there is one. So yes, I’ve read these books. I’ve read them all multiple times. And from reading them, I’ve learned that there’s no saving me.” Gerard looked down, stalling in his furtive turning of the pages as he searched for some bullshit spell he thought he could use to find his brother. “I know you want me to be optimistic about this, Frank. I know that, regardless of what you say, you’ve grown in the church. You believe in some sort of god. An eternity. And you probably want me there. But I… I think I know we’re I’m going. And I don’t want you to follow me.”

Frank scowled. “Shut the fuck up and keep looking.” He didn’t want to admit to Gerard what he was feeling — how much pain was curling in his chest at the thought of losing Gerard to a hell that he was one hundred percent certain existed, as opposed to the twenty percent he gave to a heaven. Gerard, though. Gerard didn’t deserve to end up in hell. Frank eyed the book. Maybe Gerard had missed something.

Gerard slammed the book shut, startling Frank. “I’m not losing you to this,” he said with an edge of hysteria. “I’m not, Frankie. Even if we die here, the possibility of you getting something peaceful at the end is too good to give up. I’m not going to risk it. I’m not going to risk any of you.”

“Pretty sure we’re all in the eyes of the devil now,” Tyler commented softly off to the side, where he was helping Josh carve crosses into the heads of bullets. A half baked idea that was only going to be furthered by dousing the bullets in holy water. They were scrambling for ideas. All they had was Ray’s Bible and Gerard’s half assed ability that would leave him brain dead after a matter of minutes. They were going to need everything they could get their hands on. Desperate times, after all.

“Tyler’s got a point,” Josh agreed. “Isn’t the apocalypse his favorite sort of thing? Wouldn’t he want to make us suffer for being the ones to fight back?”

“God, does this matter?” Ray interrupted, throwing his own few bullets onto the table. The harsh sound made Tyler jump. He was easy to startle. “Mikey’s gone! He’s fucking gone, and instead of doing something about it, we’re just dicking around and giving them more time to hurt him!”

“They wouldn’t want to hurt their antichrist,” Tyler reasoned cautiously. “I know it sucks, but I feel like they don’t want to hurt Mikey. They just want him in their custody to make sure he doesn’t get in their way.”

“Or they could be torturing him to make him join them sooner,” Ray bit out. Gerard paled. 

“We need to save my brother,” he told them. “So please, let’s not fight. If we fight, we won’t be able to get him back.”

“Fuckers,” Josh said from the table. All eyes turned to him. He was glaring at them. “When Ryan was missing, didn’t you guys just drive around fucking town and then give up? But when it’s Mikey, fucking everyone needs to do everything, because that’s what Mikey deserves. But not Ryan. No, Ryan just gets a little car ride and fuck all.”

“Josh,” Tyler sighed, ready to be the peacemaker, but Josh was on the warpath.

“It just fucking astounds me,” Josh snapped. “That you guys have just always been so fucking willing to cut Ryan out. The second he’s gone, you fuckers just spend the minimal amount of time to find him, and then twiddle your thumbs. And it’s always been like this. You’ve always seen Ryan as expendable.”

“You’ve got us all wrong,” Gerard tried to argue. “Ryan’s just, he’s different. He doesn’t need us like we need each other. Ryan’s always been able to survive on his own. He can even be happy alone, he’s always been okay by himself. But I have a horrible codependency and so does Mikey. We, we can’t just be alone. Not like Ryan can.”

“You fucking abandoned him,” Josh spat out. “Don’t fucking try to deny it.”

“I”m not!” Gerard cried out. “I’m not denying it! I left him, I turned my back on him, I understand that — how many times do you have to shove my face into this before you’re satisfied? How many times do you have to make me feel guilty enough to make me sick to my stomach?”

“Just a few more fucking times,” Josh replied coldly. “Enough times for you to really understand what you did to him. I watched from the sidelines — I saw how he fell apart after Brendon and you. I saw how thin he got. How his grades failed. And I saw how Pete and Patrick were there for him. Now they’re gone. You guys? You’re all he has left.” Josh stood, facing Gerard with a stony gaze. “And you’re looking to save fucking Mikey.”

“We can’t save everyone,” Ray said. “And maybe Frank was right. Ryan probably won’t want to live after all of this.”

“That isn't our fucking decision to make!” Josh shouted. “And if you’re really fucking okay with not saving everyone, then save Ryan and not Mikey! At least Ryan’s fucking human!”

“Don’t say that,” Gerard said, his voice shaking. “Mikey, Mikey’s human. He still is.”

“Mikey’s not fucking human,” Josh snapped. “He’s not! He was born inhuman! He’s a fucking antichrist, he’s gotta be some sort of fucking demon, and that’s fucking it! He’s not human, you’re in denial, and all of you apparently don’t give a shit about Ryan.”

Ray narrowed his eyes at Josh. “Are you done?”

“I’d probably break your fucking nose if I didn’t think you’d just end up letting me die once we’re with Lucal,” Josh growled. 

“I’m not a killer,” Ray growled. 

“And I’m not about to let you fucking assholes just let Ryan die because you’re too focused on someone else, yet again!” Josh stood from the table, looking like he wanted throw a fit and just fucking leave. “Ryan’s one of us. More so than Mikey, because he’s been awake this whole fucking time. He’s put his life on the line for all of you, he’s nearly fucking died and you just want to fucking sit here and care about Mikey. But I’m not going to let that happen. So if any of you try to put Ryan in danger on your fucking war path to save the fucking antichrist, I will get in your way. And I will fucking stop you.”

“And if you stop me from saving Mikey, I’ll kill you.” Frank startled when he saw that Ray was dead serious. His mouth dropped open and looked between the two, realizing that this was an actual fight. He stood with Josh.

“Guys, guys, stop,” he said, throwing up an arm. “We really can’t afford to be at each others’ throats right now. We, we’re about to go up against a demonic army that’s been shoved into one fucking body that is one of our friends. We’re already being torn apart by forces outside of our control. We should really try to keep ourselves together.”

“Talk to Josh,” Ray accused. “He’s the one trying to start a fight.”

“He’s right, though,” Tyler murmured. “I mean, you guys really do seem to have a habit of just kinda pushing Ryan aside like you think he’s gonna be okay by himself. Like, like you think he’s almost…meant to be alone. Which is really not okay?” Tyler posed more of a question than gave a statement. “Ryan, Ryan’s not like you think.”

“You don’t fucking know Ryan like we do,” Ray snapped. “And apparently, you watched from the sidelines! By your own fucking admission! How the fuck can you think you’re better than us if you just left him alone too!”

“I don’t have to answer you,” Josh said. 

“You’re just as bad as us!” Ray shouted. “You were happy to stand by and let him suffer just like we did! You didn’t do fucking anything for him! The only person here who has any fucking decency is Frank, and he hasn’t even known Ryan for more than a fucking month! But you and I? We’re the fucking same. We’re monsters and we’re responsible for whatever happens to Ryan because none of us stepped in to help him through the hell these things have inflicted on him. Understand?” Ray looked to Gerard, Tyler, and Josh. “We are responsible for him saying yes. We left him alone. Maybe, if we had stayed with him and helped him through everything, things would have ended differently. But we didn’t. Okay? And we just have to fucking accept that we did this.” 

“Then that means we have to save Ryan first,” Tyler said. “It, it does, doesn’t it? If we did this to him, then we need to put him first.”

“I need to save Mikey,” Gerard replied. “And that’s what I’m going to do.”

“At the cost of Ryan’s life?” Josh asked, a nearly murderous edge to his voice. “Again, Gerard? You’re gonna do that to him again?”

Gerard steeled his jaw and Frank hated what he knew Gerard as going to say. “I need to save Mikey.”

“You’re just as evil as your brother,” Josh said with a scowl. Gerard didn’t look like the words affect him and Frank just wanted this conversation to be over. “When we leave tomorrow, know that I’m going to be ready to tie you to a fucking tree to keep you from hurting Ryan. Even if it costs you your fucking demon of a brother. Got it?”

Gerard didn’t say anything. He wouldn’t meet anyones’ eyes. 

“Wanna pass me some bullets, Tyler?” Frank asked softly. He felt like he and Tyler were the only neutral parties left in the room. The only two people who wanted to just save everyone in the end. Tyler handed the bullets and a partially dull knife to Frank. Frank sat down and set to work silently.

. . .

“You think I’m wrong,” Gerard murmured, sitting in the dark on Frank’s bed. After the other night, where Gerard and Mikey’s mother had died and they lost Mikey completely, Ray had suggested they just stop going out in the dark. They’d find Mikey and Ryan in the morning, he’d said. “You think I should put Ryan first.”

Frank remained quiet for a second. “I think we shouldn’t be putting anyone before anyone.”

“I have to save Mikey,” Gerard whispered. “It’s all I can think about.”

“You should want to save Ryan, too.” Frank sighed. “Look, I just, I want you to not be so fucking insane for Mikey. I get that he’s your brother and you love him, but…Ryan.”

“I went without Ryan for three years, I can go another few days,” Gerard tried to argue. “You guys are acting like we’ve only got one shot at this. We can save Mikey, and then go back for Ryan, you know. It’s not like we have some sort of timer on this.”

“It’s just funny how you were pretty calm about handling Lucal until Mikey was taken,” Frank mumbled, “But once it was Mikey, we’re suddenly able to gather ourselves and attack the next day. Just seems a little fucked up, Gerard.”

“I know,” Gerard confessed. “I do, I’m sorry, and I wish I could change how I think and feel, but since I can’t, I’ll just live my life the way I need to. With who I need to.” Gerard looked to Frank, his eyes glinting in the darkness. “And I need to be with Mikey. And, and you. I need you and Mikey, and by extension, Ray. And that’s it, Frank. I’m fucked in the head and better of dead and I need you.”

“I’ll always be here, Gee,” Frank sighed. “I just wish you’d realize that you mean a lot more to Ryan than you seem to appreciate. You know he probably would’ve died for any of us.”

“That’s his decision, not mine,” Gerard replied stiffly. 

“God, you sound like a monster,” Frank said before he could think better. Gerard let out this noise of hurt, looking at Frank like he couldn’t believe Frank had said that too him. “I know you don’t want to hear it, but it’s true,” Frank mumbled, tearing his eyes from Gerard to look to the bed sheets. He didn’t want to see Gerard’s face as he said this. “You’ve basically insinuated that you won’t care if Ryan dies so long as you have Mikey in the end. You’re putting one life above another in a way that’s way too, uh, brazen and uncaring to be okay. Jesus, Gerard, it’s fucking Ryan. Ryan fucking Ross. He…he deserves better than this. Deserves better than the way you’re treating him.”

Gerard sniffled and Frank almost felt like he was dealing with a little kid that was being told he couldn’t get his favorite candy. Except this was Gerard, and they were talking about Gerard’s complete disregard for Ryan’s fucking life. Frank couldn’t stand how flippant Gerard talked about Ryan dying. Like everything he’d done for Gerard didn’t matter. It was disgusting.

“I don’t know how I can change that,” Gerard said, his voice wavering with tears. “I’ve spent the past three years looking for Mikey. Now he’s gone again, so I just have to start looking again. It’s, like, trying to teach an old dog new tricks. Or a computer, Frank. All my programming as centered around finding Mikey. And you can’t change that. It’s practically in my blood at this point. Bone deep. My instincts.”

“Ryan would go against his instincts to save you.” Frank looked up, expression hard. “You know he would.”

“Then Ryan’s better than me,” Gerard said. “Better than I’ll ever be. Which, fuck, that’s something I’ve always known. Everyone’s always known that Ryan’s better than all of us. It’s why Ray is acting like he is and why Josh fell in love with him. Ryan’s better than us. In every universe, in every story, in every god damn thing that could possibly exist, Ryan is better than all of us.” Gerard sniffled again. “Happy? I’m a monster and Ryan’s an angel.”

“I really have no idea how I could be happy during any of this,” Frank sighed. “Look, can we…we just need to go to bed. You’ve got your spell tomorrow. We’re basically gonna completely leave Ryan to die so you can save your brother. What else is there?” 

Gerard swallowed hard. “You’re right. Let’s go to bed.”

Frank grimaced. He dropped down onto the mattress, his back to Gerard. Gerard didn’t even try to reach out for him. 

. . .

The world was ending the next morning, as far as Frank could tell. He’d never seen clouds turn that shade of red. He’d never seen actual red clouds before, really. And he’d never seen them swirl around and gather over one spot, someplace far away that Frank couldn’t name off the top of his head. Josh was the one to wake him up and let him know about the red world outside the window. Josh hadn’t even touched Gerard.

“We’re heading towards the end of the world, aren’t we?” Frank asked with an air of defeat. “We’re heading towards the danger.”

“It’s where Ryan is,” Josh replied. “And anywhere he goes, I go.” He turned to look at Frank with a hardened expression. “I thought a lot last night, and I’ve decided that they can take Mikey if they want. Gerard and Ray can have that. But I’m going for Ryan.”

“How?” Frank asked. “Gerard won’t let us look at the book. He wants to make sure Mikey is safe before risking anything. He’s not gonna help.”

“Then I’ll fucking kill someone,” Josh huffed. “I don’t know, Frank. But Ryan’s suffering, and I can’t have that.”

Frank sighed. “We’ve got to make this happen at the same time, Josh. That’s the only way it can work. If we get both of them at once. But I literally have no fucking clue how to do that, Josh.”

Josh was silent for a moment. “…I think we need to steal the book.”

Frank gritted his teeth. “Hell sounds fucking awful, Josh.”

“Leaving Ryan to Lucal sounds worse,” Josh replied. “At least this way, we’ll have a clean conscious. But if we leave Ryan to that, while knowing we could have done something to save him, no God will accept us anyways. What kind of god takes in people who abandon their friends?”

“Not a God I’d want to praise,” Frank agreed begrudging. “Fine. But only one of us has to read it, so I’ll read the book.”

“What? But it was my idea.”

“I’m gonna be the dumbass Romeo-Juliet high schooler and say that I’d like to end up in hell with Gerard,” Frank admitted with a self deprecating grin. “Though you’d want to end up with Ryan, right? We could just read it at the same time.”

“Gerard could’ve been over-exaggerating…”

Frank grimaced. “Do you really think he was?”

“Fuck, I hope,” Josh sighed. “But he wasn’t.” Josh looked at the sky again. “Okay. You and I will read that book once we’re back tonight. For now, I’ll try not to start a fight with Ray again. And you keep Gerard distracted.”

“What if we don’t come back?” Frank asked. 

“Then we died trying.” Josh gave Frank a pat on the back that was meant to be reassuring and left to wake up everyone else. Frank just kinda wanted to throw up everywhere. 

. . .

“We’re gonna die,” Frank said as the minivan lumbered closer to the swirling red clouds. Tyler was eyeing the sky like he was expecting it to fall down on them while he was trying to drive. It was raining hard, too, so that didn’t help. The windshield wipers were flapping like crazy and Frank couldn’t stop looking at the world they were passing. He was terrified. His hands were shaking in his lap and he didn’t know how Gerard expected to get Mikey out. Frank knew one of them was going to die during this, there was literally no way someone wouldn’t. Lucal wasn’t going to just let them leave with Mikey. Lucal wasn’t going to let them leave in general.

“I’m scared,” Frank said. He was the only one talking. “And I’m too fucking scared to care about being scared. Like, I’m a guy, right? I’m not supposed to be fucking scared, but I am. And I’m definitely not supposed to admit it. But I will.”

He sighed and saw a tree fall over. Apparently, it was windy as fucking hell, too. The car was moving so slowly. Frank had originally assumed they were moving slowly because Tyler was nervous about the rain — it hadn’t occurred to him that the wind was trying to push them away from wherever they were going. 

“Are tornadoes a thing here?” Frank asked as another tree fell and knocked a few down with it. “I know they are down in the midwest — Oklahoma and places like Kentucky or somewhere. I know they have tornadoes, cause they’re so flat. Will we not get any here? I’m pretty sure apocalypses always have weather anomalies regardless of what kind of scenario it is.” He grimaced. “I think the worst part is thinking of all those poor animals, you know? The worst part aside from us dying. I think the animals don’t deserve to die. They literally have nothing to do with any of this. They’re more innocent bystanders than any human.”

He swallowed to wet his dry mouth, the anxiety bubbling in his chest. “And the way Lucal just makes the animals drop dead. It’s so messed up. And if he can just make their little heart stops in their chests, couldn’t he do that to us? Why hasn’t he? If I could stop the hearts of my enemies, you know half of the fucking world would be dead at this point, cause I just get so angry at random people very suddenly, with little thought for it. And why doesn’t he—”

“For the love of God, shut up,” Ray said. He was sitting perfectly still with his fingers weaved together, knuckles white. Frank was quickly learning that Ray became a fucking asshole when Mikey was gone. Frank was actually a little relieved Ray hadn’t stuck around Ryan when Mikey first went into his coma — God knew Ryan didn’t deserve to be treated like this by someone he called a friend. “You won’t fucking shut up. Everything is fucked, we get it, you need to drop it. Gerard’s gonna blow his top, and I’m second from shooting you in the fucking face.”

“Ray!’ Gerard shouted, horrified from the back of the van. “You, you can’t—”

“I’m done, I’m sorry,” Ray huffed, sitting back in his chair and crossing his arms. “I didn’t mean it. Just want him to shut up.”

“If you guys don’t calm down, I-I will turn around,” Tyler threatened weakly. 

“Where is this leading us?” Josh asked. He was in the front with Tyler, helping him navigate the back roads they were having to take to get to the epicenter of the end. “I don’t recognize any of this part of the forest.”

“We’re lost, aren’t we?” Tyler asked. “What if I don’t know how to make it back?”

“We’ll come back,” Gerard said firmly. “This turn up here.” Tyler didn’t bother questioning how Gerard knew that and pulled to the left, down an even bumpier dirt road than the ones before. The road was dark, and the lights of the van were too dim to be any sort of help. The road twisted and turned and Frank’s grip on his chair tightened as time passed. The forest was a tight maze until it suddenly opened up into a huge clearing. Tyler put the car into park and they all stared ahead. A red glow came from the center of the field, and figures stood around it, like something out of a horror movie. A huge fire pit was what everyone was surrounding and there was a giant pole or totem or maybe a tree trunk jutting from the fire, like pictures Frank had seen in books that showed witches being burned alive. 

“I have a feeling they knew we were coming,” Josh commented almost idly. “See Ryan anywhere?”

“Where’s Mikey?” Gerard asked, leaning over Josh’s seat to try and see. Everything was backlit. There was no way for them to see or recognize anyone. “I need to find—”

“The car won’t go into drive,” Tyler told them with a frantic edge to his voice. “I can’t, I can’t reverse it either. The car won’t move.”

One figure moved, like it was turning around. Its hand raised into the air and beckoned them over. “Guess we should get going,” Ray said, way too willing to walk to his own death. He opened the passenger and climbed out of the car. Josh opened his own door and took his gun, following Ray. Josh pushed past Ray and that was when Frank got out to follow with Gerard and Tyler close behind.

“Rescue mission,” Tyler was chanting to himself. “This is a rescue mission.”

Frank lagged behind to make sure Tyler didn’t have to walk alone. The headlights of the minivan lit up part of the path to the fire pit. Frank honestly wasn’t worried about being attacked. He was tentatively thinking that Lucal wanted to talk. It was a bad idea, but better than dying.

“Where’s Ryan?” Tyler asked Frank. “And Mikey? Are we supposed to just grab them and run?”

“Oh shit,” Frank breathed. As they got closer to the stake and the firepit, he could see the skinny outline of Ryan, standing directly in front of the flames. Lucal was facing them, smiling almost pleasantly. This was most definitely a trap. 

“I knew you wouldn’t be able to let me just take him,” Lucal said, laughing. “You’re always such a predictable species. Take what you care about, something as simple as a person to a book on a shelf, and you’ll always come running. The possessiveness you have for the things you love is always one of the easiest ways to make you do what I want.”

“Then give him back,” Gerard said, his voice weak. Ray was still walking towards him, like he was about to just walk right up to Lucal and punch Ryan’s face. Maybe Ray thought they could actually put up a physical fight? Frank knew that hitting Ryan wouldn’t get them anywhere. “You know us so well, right? So you know we won’t stop until we have him back.”

“Have them back,” Josh clarified. “Ryan’s ours.”

“Ryan’s mine,” Lucal snorted. “Or does the fact that I’m literally wearing his body like last season’s fashion not translate to you? This body is mine. Even if you got him back, I doubt he’d want to linger. You know this. Your friends know it. Your hopeless love for him is just pathetic at this point.”

Lucal paused, before smiling. “Unless you’d like to hear what he’s thinking?” he asked Josh, approaching him at an even gait. Frank finally took notice of the other figures around the fire. They were just normal looking townspeople, save how their eyes were too wide to be normal and trained on Josh and Lucal. “Maybe you’d like to know of the pain he’s feeling. The agony. The way he cried when I killed the antichrist’s damned mother, or how he literally begged me to let all of you just leave after I claimed him. Maybe you want to hear about how I’ve torn apart every corner of his mind, taken his memories and made them something so twisted that he can’t go back.” Lucal took obvious delight in seeing Josh’s face contort with fury. “You love him so blindly.”

Josh raised his gun and pointed the muzzle to Ryan’s head.

“No!” Frank shouted, diving forward and yanking Josh’s arm down. The gun went off and Ryan’s left thigh exploded in a burst of blood, but Lucal didn’t even falter. He stood strong, and let Ryan’s leg bleed. 

“That’s still him, you fucking idiot, that’s still him!” Frank cried out, wishing he could hit Josh in the face. “You’re only hurting Ryan!”

Josh paled, and Frank knew there was nothing he could say or do that would make Josh feel worse than he was about to feel in a moment. Shooting Ryan in the fucking leg in a moment of insane anger wasn’t really something you could just apologize about and move on from. Lucal laughed louder. 

“So easy to break,” Lucal said. “So easy to fuck with.” He reach out towards Josh. Frank stepped aside, watching Lucal in fear, but Josh suddenly seemed hypnotized. Lucal’s expression softened into something that almost looked like Ryan’s face, and his hand gently grazed Josh’s cheek. “Don’t you want me back, Joshy?” A voice too close to Ryan’s asked. “Don’t you miss me?” That small, understanding smile pulled at Ryan’s lips. “Not like they’re gonna let you…they say they’ll come back for me, but you know that’ll I’ll be as good as dead.”

Frank saw a light coming from Ryan’s fingertips, that were against Josh’s temple. It was a deep red, almost blackish, and the veins inside Josh’s lit up from Ryan’s fingertips and led towards Josh’s eyes. 

“You’re supposed to love me, Josh,” “Ryan” murmured. “And I know you’ve said you’d die for me, but…would you kill for me?”

“Josh, that’s not him,” Frank said fearfully. “You can’t listen.”

“Would you kill someone if I asked you too?” “Ryan” asked. Josh’s irises began to glow that same black red. “Would you kill Ray?”

“Jesus christ, Josh, get away from him,” Frank pleaded, reaching out to pull at Josh’s arm. But Josh didn’t move. He was still as a stone, staring into Ryan’s burning eyes. 

“Already possessed once,” Lucal said, suddenly dropping the act. “It’s easy to make him mine again.” Lucal took a step back and nodded towards Ray and Gerard. “You know what you want to do.”

Josh turned, teeth gnashing like a dog, and launched for Gerard’s throat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so, as you may have noticed, there's a chapter limit on this story now. the next chapter will be the last chapter of des kids, and it'll take me about three weeks to write, since i have a lot to wrap up. i'm really really sorry for how long that's gonna take, i have a lot of things going on in my life outside of fanfiction now, and some of them are pretty exciting! but it's still super busy.
> 
> i am really sorry for how short these last chapters have been as well. again, things have gotten hectic. i started school again just the other day and already have a shit tons assignments. i work full time, while juggling full time university, but that's the unhappy stuff. the exciting news is that i am not only going to begin working on a full length novel that i hope to publish, but i'm also working with a partner in brazil to turn one of my fics into a comic! it's a pretty good process, and mostly step-by-step, which i appreciate, considering i've never done any of this shit before. but it's also very time consuming.
> 
> that being said, desecrated kids will be my last multi-chap, long fic for a while. you undoubtedly will see smaller fics from me here and there (both bandom and RPF), but with everything going on in my life right now, and the future i wanna give myself, i have to prioritize. don't get me wrong, i loooooooove writing fanfiction, i use it as a coping mechanism for fuck's sake, but if i want to become a legitimate author, i have to start working on the legitimate writing. 
> 
> thank so much for understanding, and i'm really really sorry if this, like, upsets you.


	20. End of Life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks to **HalseysChemicalRomance** for being a consistent and lovely beta
> 
> song rec: _Quainterlude/End of Life by Death Spells_

Frank’s knees were skinned and his clothes were torn. His chest was heaving as he struggled to catch his breath. He’d lost a shoe back somewhere on the forest floor and he couldn't see — the moon was completely blocked and the space was suffocated by roiling, red and purple clouds. He didn’t know where he was, horribly lost in the woods. His side hurt, the broken rib screaming at him, and his ankle throbbed. His eyes darted around wildly as he tried to see anyone, anything.

It had all happened so fast. 

Josh had gone for Gerard’s throat, and the nameless figures gathered around the fire had thrown themselves at Tyler and Ray. A gun had gone off, bodies had scattered around in fear, and there had been blood on his face, a splash of it like getting hit with a water balloon that burst. He was still nauseated from the smell. He could taste the now-familiar iron on his tongue. it was in his hair, his clothes, under his fingernails with the dirt, and pervading all of his sense. He was very alone. So very alone. And he had this terrible, sinking feeling that Gerard was dead.

Now that he was alone for a few moments, he couldn’t deny that humans were the weakest creatures on Earth, compared to how much the race boasted that they were mentally superior to all others. They were so easily twisted and used, and so easily manipulated. Josh and Ryan were amazing examples. Frank himself was evidence of that as well. Humans were weak. Fucking pathetic.

He heard shuffling footsteps behind him and swung out with a wild shout of panic. He’d seen what these things were capable of. He didn’t want to be torn apart. 

“Wait, wait, please don’t!” 

Frank squinted into the darkness and wondered how he’d ended up on the forest floor. A face lowered into his line of sight, and while he could barely see, he was able to recognize Tyler. “Please don’t hurt me,” Tyler said. “My, my eye hurts. There were fingers. It really hurts.”

Frank squinted and realized one of Tyler’s eyes was an empty, bleeding socket. He thought. It was really just a dark hole, much darker than his other eye. He could only assume that the eye was actually just gone. “Uh…”

“What?” Tyler asked shakily. “Is it bad?”

“Jesus,” was all Frank could say.

Tyler whimpered. “Don’t tell me. I don’t want to know.”

“Have you seen anyone else?” Frank asked, keeping his voice low. He pulled off his jacket and wondered if he could somehow fashion a bandage to help Tyler’s completely gouged out eye. “Gerard?”

“I-I ran when one of the possessed tried to tear out my wrist vein,” Tyler explained. “She dug her nails in. It hurt a lot too. And so I ran, but they followed me, and one of them grabbed my by the face and pushed their finger into my eyes. Now my eye doesn’t work.”

“Fuck, Tyler, you don’t-” Frank cut himself off. He didn’t know what Tyler’s capacity for trauma was. “We need to get out of the woods.”

“We need to find Ryan and Mikey,” Tyler said. 

“We need to find Gerard,” Frank agreed. “And we need to find Gerard’s book.”

“Should we?” Tyler asked shakily. “He, he really did tell us not to touch it. I know you and Josh talked big and shit, b-but Gerard knows what he’s doing. We really shouldn’t touch that stuff. I lied before. I wanna go to heaven.”

“If Gerard and Ray are both unable to fight, it’s up to us,” Frank said, with literally no confidence. “We have to get Lucal out of Ryan and send Lucal back to Hell ourselves with whatever the fuck Gerard had in that book.” He struggled to meet Tyler’s single eye in the darkness. “I know you’re scared. God knows I am too. But this is life or death no matter what you and I choose to do, book or not. And I don’t know about you, but if I die, I wanna be able to say I went down screaming fucking murder to these freaks.”

“I’m really fucking scared,” Tyler said. “And my eye hurts.”

“God, Tyler, you don’t have a fucking eye,” Frank finally blurted out. “It’s gone. It’s not even hanging or something. You are missing a god-damn eye.”

Tyler’s bottom lip started to tremble. “O-oh.”

“Help me find the book, Tyler.”

“I’m really gonna freak out if we make it away from this alive,” Tyler said. “Should I get a glass or a wooden eye?”

“Help me find the fucking book,” Frank insisted. 

“It’s in the car, isn’t it?” Tyler looked back the way he’d apparently come running from. “Gerard left it in the car. Along with the stuff we’d need to make things work. But he brought stuff for getting Mikey back. I don’t know if he brought the stuff we need for getting Lucal out of Ryan.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Frank said. “Which way’s the car?”

Tyler pointed towards more darkness. “I can see the lights. Follow me.”

Frank followed the half blind boy through the woods. Every now and again, Tyler would stop in his tracks and make Frank do the same, like he could see something Frank couldn’t. There would then be footsteps and scuffling through the forest and heavy breathing, only barely overheard over the sound of newly falling rain. Frank was completely at the mercy of a boy who was missing an eye.

He saw the headlights of the car and the light of the fire eventually, through the tree trunks. He didn’t see anyone around the flames. They were all probably out trying to find Tyler and Frank in the woods. Frank was praying they were also still looking for Gerard.

“Can they do that to me?” Tyler asked in a shaky whisper as he crept up to the car. Now, with the light shining, Frank could see the blood mess that was Tyler’s eye socket. He couldn't stare at it for too long without feeling ill. “Can they control me like they controlled Josh? Could they turn me against you? Could I end up killing someone?”

“How the fuck do you open a van door silently?” Frank hissed, struggling to pull the side door open as quietly as he possibly could. “Shit, is someone coming?” He and Tyler both ducked down, flattening themselves against the side of the car. Shadows passed and Frank heard voices- Ryan’s voice, in particular. And Mikey.

“What the do you think you’re gonna be able to do?” Mikey was asking. There was the sound of metal clinking, and Frank wished he could see if Mikey was in chains as it sounded like. “Round them up like dogs? My brother’s smarter than that.”

“We already have your brother,” Lucal replied. Frank’s heart sunk. “I do have a plan, dear Michael. I always do.”

“Save me the cliches and let them go,” Mikey snapped. “I’m not going to give in to you.”

“Eh,” Lucal said — fucking eh. “With all your talk, you seem to have forgotten that you have shown a light on your true weakness. I mean, after all — you’re only human, right?”

“Am I?” Mikey retorted.

“You seem to think you are. And just as you’ve seen me break Ryan, so long as you value yourself as human, I can break you like a human.” Lucal sounded like he was making Ryan smile. “And do you remember how I broke Ryan?”

“You already know I won’t join you if you kill my brother…”

“Well, of course. I had to kill quite a few more people than just Ryan’s father, after all. I had to take his brother, too. His mother was a bit more of a subtle effort. And then the final shock of that boy’s possible death. I know it won’t be as simple as taking your brother from you. Your brother, the Defiler, and then a few other innocents, though. That may do the trick.”

“It doesn’t matter how many people you kill,” Mikey said firmly. “I will never join you.”

Lucal laughed again. “I’m sure Ryan would’ve said the same thing a few years ago.”

Tyler managed to open the car door without even Frank being able to hear it. They both crept inside and found the book on the floor of the car, lying open on a random page. Frank couldn’t really read any of it, but he could recognize symbols. He remembered seeing Gerard looking at only certain pages. And he was sure Gerard had translated the things that mattered. “Get out, get out!” Tyler hissed. Frank grabbed Ray’s tiny-ass flashlight from the back of the car before crawling out. Tyler pulled him back into the woods, the oppressive darkness. Frank almost wished they could stay by the headlights and the fire. 

“My eye really hurts,” Tyler whimpered as they ran as silently as possible. Frank would’ve gotten annoyed by the repetition if he didn’t remind himself that Tyler had lost his god-damn, motherfucking eye. “I-I think I saw it back on the ground. Could a doctor put it back in?”

“Tyler, please be quiet,” Frank begged. They went as deep into the woods as they felt safe going before Frank went down on his knees and opened the book, turning on the flashlight. Literally nothing happened when Frank opened the book. He almost wished he could say he didn’t believe any of Gerards’ warnings. “Fuck, fuck, there’s a few pages dog eared,” Frank whispered as he flicked on the tiny flashlight and scanned the pages. Everything was written in a language he didn’t understand with crudely drawn images that depicted evil, evil things Frank remembered his mother would cover his eyes to make sure he didn’t see the images. 

“It has to be in here somewhere,” Frank mumbled to himself, flipping through the pages. The further the went, the more his heart sunk. Gerard didn’t seem to have translated anything. Everything was just gibberish. The images were terrifying. They made Frank’s stomach churn. People being skinned and impaled and split open slowly by gravity on sharpened edges. Being pulled apart by horses. Tearing out hearts, sacrifice and cannibalism. Frank’s fingertips started to feel fuzzy with the more pages he flipped, like they were losing blood. “I can’t…”

“There,” Tyler said, suddenly stopping Frank’s machine-like page flipping. Frank paused and suddenly noticed the english handwriting, recognized it as Gerard’s hectic scrawl. “Which one is this?” Tyler asked. “Is this for Mikey, or Lucal, or Ryan?”

“God, what even is the fucking Mikey spell?” Frank huffed. “Is it just getting him out of somewhere?”

“Maybe there isn’t a spell for Mikey,” Tyler suggested. “Maybe he just has one to kill Lucal, and one to save Ryan. Maybe, maybe he thinks he’s gonna have to choose between Mikey and Ryan.”

“Not gonna be much of a choice,” Frank grumbled. “He’ll take Mikey over any of us. Me, you, Ryan. His own fucking child if he had one. No one comes before Mikey fucking Way, apparently. So there probably isn’t any sort of fucking choice involved.”

Tyler looked momentarily sad. “… When did we suddenly become capable of choosing who will live or die?”

Frank had to pause. “I have no idea.”

“I’m just a kid,” Tyler said. “I used to worry about making sure I had enough gatorade for all of the football team. Now, I’m missing an eye a-and I’m trying to stop the world from ending, but by doing so, I may have to let a very important person die. Might even have to die too. How did this happen? My best friend is rabid, Frank. How does this happen?” Tyler stared at the book. “I keep hurting and I don’t want to.”

“Can you make any sense of this?” Frank asked. If he started thinking about how bad things he had gotten, he wouldn’t be able to focus on fixing things. “It’s like, it’s for summoning, right? So he wanted to summon Lucal to wherever he should be and then I think the second part of this is creating a barrier that a grand demon or what the fuck ever can’t get out of. It’s a trap, right? He wanted to summon and trap Lucal. And then…”

“Frank, that thing on the next page looks like a weapon.”

Frank had purposefully been avoiding looking at the next page for that very reason. It was a hap-hazardously made blade, looking like a piece of glass tied around a thick piece of wood with something oozing out from between where the blade and wood met. It was jagged and nasty looking and there was a diagram that showed a shadow figure stabbing the other figure that was caught in the same trap before in the heart.

“Do you think,” Tyler said slowly. “That made Gerard knew we couldn’t save Ryan all along? That he just lied to us? Cause he knew we needed to stop Lucal, at all costs?”

“I’m gonna throw up,” Fran said. He turned his head to the side, head swimming as his stomach churned, but nothing came up even as he gagged once. He sat back up and turned to the book again. “We need to get these things and summon Lucal. I know Gee had a lot of ingredients with him in the van. Whatever else we need, I’m sure he thought we could get out here.”

“It calls for the sacrifice of a limb,” Tyler said, reading the directions over Frank’s shoulder. “Of a vital limb. So not, like, just a toe. It wants an arm?”

“Fuck, I don’t want to cut off my arm,” Frank almost whined. “Okay, okay, so first, we need acacia, oil of Abrameli, blood of the summoner some fucking candles, and we need to put it all over the sigil of Saturn, then say this latin shit. Looks like the limb is for making the weapon.” Frank flipped a few pages. “Shit, Tyler, there’s an exorcism in here, too. A higher demon exorcism. Gerard did know we could save Ryan.”

“What does it need?” Tyler asked, squinting. Gerard’s handwriting looked a little different in this one. A little smaller. 

“It, it needs…” Frank shook his head. “Fuck, Tyler, it shows the person doing the exorcism literally stabbing their own fucking chest. Or, the alternative of slitting your wrists. So, so the exorcism calls for death. Someone needs to die. Why the fuck would someone need to die?”

Tyler bit his lip. “I-I remember reading that the higher up of a demon that possesses you, the more it drains your body. So maybe, Ryan’s body is already dead. Maybe it needs to sacrifice to trade.”

“We’ll figure it out later,” Frank said hurriedly. “For now, all we have to do is trap Lucal.”

“Don’t you think the weapon would work on lower demons?” Tyler asked. “Should we make that anyways? To kill the other possessed people.”

Frank bit his lip. “Fuck, you’re right. What does that need again?”

. . .

They got back to the van, because everything they needed was inside. Frank wasn’t even sure what oil of Abrameli was, or how Gerard had gotten his hands on it, but it was in a mason jaw, appropriately labelled, tucked under the back seat, along with acacia. “We can make the blade with the mirror,” Tyler whispered, pulling down the sun visors in the front seat. “Where’s that pocket knife?” Tyler used the knife to cut out the felt around the mirror and pulled out the mirror itself. Then he bent it in half until the thing snapped, making jagged edges and a sharp point on the top. “If we tie them together with the shit Gerard brought-” Gerard had also brought the supplies to help make the knife “-Then we can fend off whatever comes after us.”

“And if it’s Josh coming after us?”

“I mean, if you need to stab it in the heart for the higher demon, wouldn’t we just need to cut him a little?”

Frank shook his head. “Josh probably isn’t even possessed. He’s just hypnotized. He’s Lucal’s bitch.”

Tyler winced. “He’s gonna give himself shit for that for the rest of his life.”

“If he even makes it that long.” Frank found the chunk of wood Gerard brought and grabbed the twine. “… We need that limb, Tyler. It says that the sacrificed flesh goes between the blade and the wood. We need to say some latin shit over the limb and then scratch more latin into the mirror, and we need the flesh between the blade and wood.”

Tyler bit his lip. “… I mean. We kinda already have a severed vital limb sort of thing.”

Frank frowned. “What?”

Tyler gestured to his empty eye socket.

“… That’s nearly in the middle of the field. Wouldn’t they see us?”

“God, can we really afford to care? Neither of us can lose a limb, we’ll be as good as dead, and we wouldn’t be able to stay quiet during that, either. So all we can really do is go for the eyeball. And it’ll work! It’s a vital limb. Way more important than a thumb or something. Technically not a limb, but…”

“It’ll do,” Frank said. “Okay. Throw something into the woods. Make a distraction and I’ll go for it.” Tyler nodded and rummaged around in the van and came up with a basketball from the back. He opened the side door as silently as he possibly could. He was really good at it. He’d explained it with how many times he’d stolen his mom’s car to go out with Josh in the middle of the night. He traded a look with Frank, nodded, then threw the ball as far into the woods as he could. 

Frank darted out as the drone demons took the bait and scrambled across the grass. He heard Lucal barking orders, but when he glanced up, he saw Ryan was facing the other direction. Frank made eye contact with Mikey. Mikey didn’t say anything, didn’t move. He just watched Frank grab a fucking handful of Tyler’s severed eyeball and run back to the van. Frank was sure he would’ve been able to see complete confusion on Mikey’s face if he’d lingered long enough to look.

“Got it, got it, got it,” Frank hissed, rolling back into the car. Tyler closed the doors silently.

“We’ve probably got a few fucking seconds of cover left,” Tyler said. “They’re gonna figure us out soon, Frank, we’ve got to make this and then make the summoning thing somewhere else.”

“We make it here and now,” Frank said firmly. “If we catch him in the van, then we have him in a mobile space. We could fucking drive somewhere safer, Tyler. This is a good place. The best place we can have, considering it doesn’t entail drawing the Saturn Sigil on the fucking dirt. We’ve got the floor of this van.” He looked around. “The seats can fold into the floor, right?”

As Tyler put the seats down, Frank tried to finish putting the grotesque blade together. “Can I see my eye?” Tyler asked. “It’s morbid, but… I mean, I’ve always kinda wondered. Who hasn’t, you know? Especially when you get a headache. You just kinda wonder if you could roll your eyes into the back of your head and see everything.”

Frank made a face. He had never felt that. He held out the eyeball anyways. He was used to feeling of the sliminess in his hand the more he told himself that it was necessary. Tyler looked over his one eye with his other eye. “My depth perception is gone,” Tyler sighed. “Please don’t smear it into my face.”

“We kinda need it.”

Tyler looked it over a second longer. “… The doctors won’t be able to put it back once you use it.”

Frank nodded. 

“… I’ll basically be disabled, huh? To an extent, in the eyes of certain people. I’ll only have one eye. Should I get an eye patch? Or a glass replacement?” Tyler smiled sadly. “I wish Josh were here. He’d know how to make me feel better about all of this.”

“I’m sorry,” Frank said lamely. He scratched the latin words into the mirror with the sharp end of the flashlight. 

Tyler sighed. “… Okay. Do the thing.” Frank nodded and held the wood upright. He gently balanced the eyeball on the top. “I’ll tie it while you hold it together,” Tyler instructed. Frank nodded and held the pieces of mirror together with his free hand, then wedged them down into the flesh and wood. He and Tyler both cringed as the eyeball burst and oozed down the sides of the wood. 

“Desideravit senguinem,” Tyler said, reading carefully and as quietly as possible while he wound the cord around the mirror shards and the wood. “Damnati sanguinem.” 

“Fucking tie faster,” Frank hissed. The eyeball fluid ran over his fingertips. He wouldn’t be able to wash away the feeling for the rest of his life. He’d probably wake up in the middle of the night with the memory of this on his mind. 

“Done, I’m done,” Tyler said, snatching his hands back. “We’re done.”

Frank nodded, taking in a deep breath. “Saturn Sigil now.”

Tyler shook his head. “We need to read the book, Frank. If we summon Lucal but can’t get Ryan out of him, then we’ll undeniably have to use the knife on him. Is there anything else in the book? Anything we can use?”

Tyler was right. They couldn’t risk bringing Lucal right to them with no way to fight back that didn’t end in Ryan’s death. He grabbed the book and flipped through the pages, desperate for anything. There were pictures that still made his skin crawl despite having been crushing an eyeball a few moments before. “I don’t see anything,” he hissed. “God, what if-” He cut himself off. They weren’t considering it.

“… What’s this one?” 

Frank stopped turning pages. There was red pencil, red pencil in English, but it was faded like it had been erased. Still, colored pencil couldn’t be erased. Frank could still make out most of it. “It looks like…”

It was a replacement sort of thing. A switch. It would force the possessing demon from one vessel into another. A sort of fix-it if a possession happened to the wrong person. Frank sucked in a breath and looked up at Tyler, who had read the same as he had. “We… Should we?”

“It’s all we can do,” Tyler said. “I… They haven’t done the mark thing, right? Where they can deny the exorcism. Have they branded Ryan like they branded Josh?”

“Who would we put Lucal into?” Frank asked.

“Me,” Tyler responded automatically. “Then you can stab me. Make it fast, too, he won’t have time to react if you do it quickly.”

“What the fuck happened to no one dying?” Frank demanded, his voice shaking. 

“Doesn’t really seem like an option anymore,” Tyler said. “I don’t think I wanna die, but really, Frank, Ryan’s the one who deserves to survive this hell.”

“We’ll do the transfer, but we won’t kill you,” Frank said firmly. “No one else is dying.”

“Transfer first, actually make a fucking plan later,” Tyler sighed. “Got it. What do we need?”

“Just the latin and a willing host,” Frank said. “We need to finish with the other stuff. We need the Saturn Sigil.”

Tyler nodded his agreement and quickly drew the symbol on the ground with the black marker he retrieved from Gerards’ chosen supplies. Frank used a plastic Tupperware container to mix the ingredients, though he hesitated with the last bit. “You gave your eye,” Frank said. “Might as well give up my blood for this one.” Tyler didn’t argue.

“Cut the higher part of your inner arm,” Tyler advised as he lit all of the dollar store candles. “You’re less likely to cut too deep and bleed out.”

“Gimme the mirror knife,” Frank said. He took the blade and dug it into his skin, letting the blood drip into the mixture in the plastic. The mixture started to smoke, a hissing noise coming from where Frank’s blood touched the oil. “Fuck, fuck, say the latin, say the latin!”

“Uh, shit, uh.” Tyler flipped the pages and Frank crawled out of the circle that was in the middle of the van floor. “Attenrobendum eos, ad consiendrum, ad ligandum eos, potiter et solvendum, et ad, congregontum eos, ‘coram me.”

There was a flash of light and the sigil lit up all around the edges, the candles flaring and going out. Frank and Tyler were both pushed back by an unseen force, their bodies hitting the back of the van. Tyler let out a shout and Frank looked up to see Ryan on his knees in the middle of the sigil with the surrounding circle still alight. Ryan was looking to them with wide eyes. For a moment, Frank was hopeful that they’d gotten Ryan back. But then Lucal laughed through him.

“Right under my nose!” he exclaimed. “I can’t believe you had the courage to come back to this van. I underestimated you.”

“Oh my god, it worked,” Tyler blurted out. 

“We want our friends back,” Frank said at the same time. 

“I’m not giving you anything,” Lucal said. “Ryan’s mine. Michael is mine. I don’t really want the Defiler and the brother, so I’ll just get rid of them on my own time. Joshua is also mine, however temporarily. His heart will give out in a few days. All I really have to do is get rid of you two.” He smirked. “And you know what, boys? You’re out numbered.” 

The van doors slammed open and hands reached in, grabbing for Tyler and Frank. Tyler shrieked and kicked one woman in the head, but was grabbed by a man just behind her. He was being pulled from the car as Frank’s head was snapped back by a hand tangling in his hair and pulling as hard as possible. Frank grabbed the knife and jammed it into the temple of the man grabbing his hair. Light burst from the man’s eyelids as he screamed and then dropped to the floor, lifeless. 

The arms all retracted at once. Lucal eyed the blade. “Where did you get that?” he asked in a low voice. 

“Fuck off or I’ll kill you too,” Frank lied. Lucal laughed.

“You wouldn’t hurt your friend. Don’t be stupid. You would never risk killing him with me, and we know it. So why don’t you put the knife down and just let me do what I came here to do?”

“Take Mikey and end the world?” Frank shook his head. “Not gonna happen. We’d all rather die than let you do that.”

“Well, you dying is part of the plan.” Lucal eyed the knife again. “Put that away, boy. I’ll take Michael and Ryan whether you want me to or not. There’s nothing you can do to stop me.”

“Tyler, get the book,” Frank said. Tyler scrambled along the floor and gathered the book in his arms. Tyler flashed through the pages, trying to find the page with the transfer. “You’re not taking Ryan,” Frank said. “You’re not taking him. Anyone but him.”

“What is that?” Lucal asked, Ryan’s voice having a harsh edge to it. “Who is that?”

“You’re not taking any of us,” Frank said.

“If that’s the brother’s book, you’ve damned your souls beyond saving,” Lucal said. “There’s no need for me to take you if you’ve delved into that sin. You’re the property of hell now. No need to even bother to save yourselves.” Lucal smiled cruelly. “Bring the brother!”

Frank’s blood ran cold when he heard Gerard’s voice shout a protest. The boy was shoved halfway into the van that was starting to grow crowded, his front end bent over into the car while his knees were in the dirt. Gerard looked up at Lucal in fear, then faltered when he saw the sigil on the floor. “Is that…” Gerard then looked up at Frank and Tyler in horror. “No…”

“You were going to let Ryan die,” Frank said. “I couldn’t have that.”

“You read the book…”

“They read the book,” Lucal affirmed. “And they’re about to read it again.”

Frank clenched his jaw and looked to Tyler, who was looking between Lucal and the page. 

“No, no, no,” Gerard interrupted. “Frankie, please, you can’t let Tyler read from that! Not only is he condemning himself to hell, but he’s marking his fucking bones with evil! Traces of evil carved into his skeleton that lets them find him wherever he could try to run, Tyler can’t keep reading!”

Frank stiffened. Then he took the book from Tyler and looked over the page himself. Gerard let out a cry of panic and crawled further into the van, reaching out like he intended to snatch the book from Frank’s hands. 

“Accipe me,” Frank read, pulling the book from Gerard’s grip. He tumbled out of the other side of the van, his shoulder hitting the dirt hard. Frank’s rib suddenly jolting in agony, but he stood and kept reading, stepping away from the van. He saw multiple human figures, all of them too frightened to approach Frank as he brandished the knife in front of himself. “Accipe me, accipe me.”

He looked to Lucal, still stuck in the circle, and saw confusion in Ryan’s eyes. He prayed Ryan would not hate him for this. 

“Testis enim mihi est diabolus,” Frank read. As he stumbled over the words, he felt a painful tug at his chest. Lucal let out a roar of disbelief and that was when Frank realized that the plan was working and he was about to be filled with the evil that was Lucal. “Victimam et non redimeteur. Accipe me. Accipe me…”

Frank looked up at Gerard and wondered if this would be the last he ever saw of the boy. Gerard was terrified. He was running towards Frank, but he was too far to stop anything. There were tears streaming down his face. Frank took in a deep breath and said, for the final time, “accipe me.”

Lucal screamed through Ryan, like the demonic entity was being forced out through Ryan’s throat in the form of an ungodly screech and Frank shut his eyes just as a swirl of blackness poured from Ryan’s eyes and mouth. He heard Gerard shout his name one final time as ice pervaded every vein in his body and his body became something that was no longer his own.

. . .

Mikey watched from the fire when Frank’s body dropped to the ground, writhing as Lucal filled his skin. He could hear his brother screaming, and for a moment, he forgot his brother’s name. He looked to Ray, who was still on the ground beside him with a kitchen knife to his throat, and wished he could convey all the fear he was feeling into one, well condensed phrase. He looked back to the van and saw Ryan drop out from the side, lifeless and unmoving. From the woods, rabid-Josh finally returned from his search of the forest. There was still that indescribable fury in his face. It didn’t change even when he saw Ryan on the floor. 

“Is he in Frank now?” Ray sounded so fucking terrified. Mikey kept working at untying the knot that was around his wrists, keeping him from moving away from the stake in the ground he was tied to. “Fuck, is he-”

_“I’ll tear you maggots apart!”_

Mikey snapped his arms out as the knot finally came undone. He threw his hand onto the ground and the world shook, something he was beginning to expect. He could feel something like power thrum through his veins and twisted his hand on the ground, picturing what he wanted to happen.

The world lurched upwards and rock shot up from the ground, creating a wall of stone between Mikey and the van and Frank’s body, off to the right. Most of the possessed scattered and they were left with only Frank out in the open, with Gerard hiding between some trees. Mikey knew his disruption of the world had scared his brother, but he didn’t care. He knew what he had to do.

“You know Frank isn’t ideal,” Mikey said, speaking up, standing and approaching Lucal slowly. “You know you’re next to nothing in him.”

“He’s just another fucking human,” Lucal growled. He was much less intimidating within Frank’s smaller frame. “And he screams for a savior just like the rest of them. I can use him. I can use all of you!”

Lucal was walking in Frank’s body like a man learning to use a prosthetic leg. He swayed on his feet and walked like a zombie, struggling to move forward, but still oh so fucking angry. Mikey took a tentative step between Lucal and Ray, knowing that the first thing Lucal would go after would be someone that Mikey cared about. That was the whole point of this.

From behind Mikey’s manmade wall, Josh roared like an animal and scratched at the stone.

“This is between you and me,” Mikey said slowly. “You don’t have to hurt anyone else.”

“Don’t I?” Lucal sneered. “You won’t listen to reason! Won’t listen to fate, won’t even listen to your own damn kind. It’s about time you grew the fuck up, Michael, and accepted your destiny! You’re a monster. _You’re a monster! So fucking act like it!_ ”

Lucal was suddenly in Mikey’s face with Frank’s hands around Mikey’s neck. “Act like a freak and lose yourself!” Lucal began to laugh as he screamed in Mikey’s face, his eyes wild and his grip far too strong to really be Frank’s. 

Mikey struggled against his grip, then twisted his foot on the floor and was amazed as a rock hit Lucal squarely in the ribs and threw him to the side. Lucal snarled and pushed off from the ground snatching out at Mikey and digging nails into Mikey’s neck. There was a hollow sound, like a wet pop, and Mikey felt pain flare through his neck as Frank’s nails penetrated the skin and pressed into the tendons. He threw his arm up like an uppercut and the ground shot upwards, hitting Lucal in the abdomen and knocking him to the ground.

“I was right,” Mikey gasped, bringing a hand to his neck to stop the bleeding. As his fingertips touched the skin, he could feel the wounds closing. The sensation of his skin knitting back together scared him and he pulled his hand away. “You’re in Frank now. One of the most fucking stubborn people I’ve ever known. You’re next to powerless. Next to human.”

“ _I’m nothing like you!_ ” Lucal snarled, eyes alight even as he was crumpled on the floor. “ _Nothing like you, nothing like these freaks! I was alive even when the sun didn’t exist! Before the world was spoken into existence! I saw the darkness that existed before God even considered creating the flood of meaningless cockroaches your entire species became_!” 

“And yet one of those cockroaches is turning you into my punching bag,” Mikey said before lifting the ground and slamming it into Lucal’s side. He felt bad for Frank. The injuries were going to be extensive. But he knew this was the best way. There was no mark on Frank’s arm. Nothing keeping Lucal to his body. They could do this. Gerard could do this.

“Mikey, get down!” Ray shouted. A dousing of holy water flew through the air, backlit by the fire, and Lucal howled in pain as his weaker vessel burned. Gerard stumbled forward, the damned book in his hands, fear across his face. Gerard had never seen someone he really loved being possessed. Mikey wondered if he was having a hard time disassociating. 

“Frankie?” Gerard called out. For once, he was worried about something aside from Mikey and the book. “Are you in there?”

 _“I’ll fucking burn his soul, you disgusting cancer!”_ Lucal screamed. The ground lit up and the grass caught fire, flames spreading rapidly like spilled oil. Gerard cried out and scrambled away, but Mikey stood among the flames and felt no pain. His shoes burned away, but the fire didn’t even extend past his clothes. “You’re learning,” Lucal seethed. “Too little, too fucking late! I’ll put you to sleep again. Make sure you wake up in the next fucking century, where everyone you ever loved is dead!”

“Mikey, I can’t get to you!” Ray called out, a frantic edge to his voice. Mikey was calm, though. If anything, comfortable. The fire was warmer than the wet world of Oregon. 

“Gerard,” Mikey said, voice even as he lifted the ground beneath Lucal’s feet to keep Frank from the flames. He shut his eyes and reached into his own mind — the dark part he didn’t like the touch, the part that knew hell in ways that would make even Lucal balk and shudder — and killed the flames in the intricate shape of the spell Gerard had chosen to exorcise Lucal. The symbol the devil himself had shown to a witch in the woods centuries ago. “Read the exorcism.”

Gerard let out an audible sound of panic as he looked down at the book. “It, it isn’t-”

Lucal screamed and lashed out in a wild attempt of desperation. The flames leaped into the air and Gerard fell back with a cry, the book falling from his hands. The fire caught the edges of the book and Mikey’s stomach sunk as the flames began to eat away at the pages. Even as Ray reached into the fire and snatched the book out, stomping on the pages to put out the flames, Mikey could see the page they needed was more than burnt. 

Gerard looked horrified over the face of the flames. But then he looked up at Lucal with solid assurance on his face. “Get out of him,” he said, voice low and commanding. And at first, Lucal laughed, until Gerard repeated himself. “Get out of Frank.”

Lucal stopped. An odd expression came over his face. His eye twitched and he stared at Gerard with bewilderment. “No…”

“I said, get. Out.” Gerard was biting into each word. “You, you’re not welcome in his body. He doesn’t want you there.” Blood trailed from Gerard’s left ear and stained the collar of his soiled shirt. His legs were shaking and his eyes were sunken in, but regardless of all of this, Mikey had never seen his brother so defiant and strong. 

Lucal clamped his hands over his ears and started to scream, like he could drown out Gerard’s orders. Blood then came from Gerard’s nose. He kept going. One final time.

“I won’t say it again,” Gerard snapped. _“Get out of Frank!”_

A horrible convulsion ran through Frank’s body and the flames twisted, then writhed with him. Lucal screamed again, though this was more for pain than desperation. His eyes rolled back and his mouth fell open. The blackness poured from Frank’s mouth like it had done for Ryan, but Mikey was ready this time. He felt the flames gather in his very veins and waved them into the black smoke. As the blackness burned, Lucal screamed.

Mikey felt him die. He felt it in his fingertips. He felt the same blackness that was Lucal leech into his own damned soul and knew that if he killed more monsters like he’d just killed Lucal, he would become one as well.

The fires died like they’d been doused with a waterfall. Everyone stared silently as Frank was caught by Gerard before he could collapse. Mikey looked across the quiet pair to Ray and tried to feel something close to accomplishment. He felt nothing.

From over the wall, he heard Josh’s weary voice. “Ryan?”

“Is it over?” Tyler called out from the van. “Please, please, please, tell me it’s over.”

“Where’s Ryan?” Josh demanded, sounding frantic. Mikey wondered if his mind was clear, just like that. It would be telling of if Lucal had any real, lasting power over Josh in the first place. So much for the human condition Lucal had criticized. It ended up being the reason he lost. 

“Holy fuck, Mikey,” Ray said, stepping towards him and holding him by the shoulders. “Sit down, sit down. Put that fucking wall away and sit down.”

Mikey let out a soft noise of protest as Ray pushed him down into the singed grass. He was in Tyler’s boat. He wasn’t actually positive this was over. He pressed his hand to the ground and brought the world back into one, flat piece. He barely saw Josh bound over the last few reformations of the ground. Josh dropped to the grass by Ryan, who hadn’t moved. Mikey knew he wasn’t dead, though. That was what mattered.

“Need sleep,” he mumbled, even though he didn’t feel tired. Sleeping just felt appropriate. Ray nodded and cupped his face in his hands.

“You just rest,” Ray told him gently. “You did so well, baby. You did so fucking well.”

Mikey made himself smile before pitching his head forward into Ray’s dress and shutting his eyes.

. . .

“And this is the kitchen,” Tyler said told Frank as he walked around the small house they’d all chosen together. 

It was a week after Lucal had burned. Frank had woken with a headache and Gerard had screamed at him about sacrificing himself, but Frank hadn’t regretted it then, and he didn’t regret it now. It had taken Ryan three days to wake up, though. And he still hadn’t spoken a word to this day. 

There’d been a lot of discussion of where to go from here. Frank was still shaking from the adrenaline at random moments. Mikey wanted to keep fighting, and Ray wasn’t about to leave Mikey. But Ryan wasn’t in any shape to be traveling around and finding people who were possessed — the bigger demons that Lucal had mentioned. Mikey was on the hunt and he’d made it obvious that he was going to start looking the second he thought Ryan would be okay.

But Ryan wasn’t going to ever be okay. At least, that was how it was looking. And Josh wasn’t about to leave Ryan. So Tyler and Josh found a shitty little house on the other side of Portland and that’s where Frank was now. 

“The backyard is huge, but there’s still a fence around the property, so Ryan can’t sleepwalk into the street or something,” Tyler continued. “And there’s a well, yeah, but the wall is higher and it’s in the shed. We’ll always check it first thing, though.” Tyler seemed pretty happy with the place. He was easily adjusting to the idea that he was going to have to look after a zombie-like Ryan for the rest of his life. It was odd to Frank, but Tyler honestly seemed like a small-town kind of guy. He didn’t seem to mind the limited space and minimal human contact. Then again, after everything they’d been through, Frank couldn’t blame him for being happy with no humans. “And we can have groceries delivered! It costs a bit, but we’ve got a lot from our parents. I think we’ll be okay until Josh or I can find a decent job.”

“And you guys think you’ll be okay?” Frank asked, looking around the house almost skeptically. It creaked and there was a draft. It was meant for what had to be two people at the absolute most, not three. Plus, Ryan was a primed vessel — he probably would be for the rest of his life. There was no way monsters wouldn’t come after him. 

“We have devils’ traps set up around the property,” Tyler said. “We’ve got the knife made from my eye.” Tyler had an amazing assortment of eye-patches by now. Random patches he’d made for himself. It looked like it was going to become a hobby. “And we’ve got the book.” Tyler smiled sadly. “Pre-damned. Josh was possessed. We’re basically just stocking up on good karma before going into hell, so there’s no point in avoiding the book, right? You guys got the pages you need?”

Frank sighed and nodded. “I wish you guys would come with.” It felt like breaking up the three musketeers or something. They didn’t all necessarily like each other, but they worked well together and had been through a lot. Especially the finale. Being without Tyler felt…wrong. 

“Ryan’s in no condition to be sleeping in a truck,” Tyler said softly. “And Josh isn’t about to leave him in the dust. Josh is my brother, too, so I’m a package deal.” Tyler smiled sadly and nudged Frank’s shoulder. Frank forced himself not to wince — the bruises of Mikey’s beating were still practically fresh. “We’ve got cellphones now, Frankie, and I’m gonna start building my own library. It’s not like we’re not gonna talk every day. Not like you’re not gonna fill us in on whatever you find. We just… Ryan needs us. And Gerard isn’t good to have around.”

Gerard was back in the car while Ray and Mikey were checking out the property. Gerard wasn’t really allowed around Ryan. After waking up, Ryan had retreated even further away from everyone upon seeing the other boy. Frank couldn’t blame him. Gerard had done more than leave Ryan for dead, he’d planned for Ryan to die. It had always been obvious that Gerard would choose quite a few people over Ryan. Frank didn’t like to think about it. He cared about Ryan and Gerard and he hated the thought that one day he’d have to choose. 

“Has Ryan eaten today?” Frank asked.

Tyler shrugged. “Let’s check.” He led Frank to one of the only two bedrooms in the house, pushing open the door. Natural light filled the room and Ryan was sitting on the bed, facing away from the door, facing Josh. Josh was kneeling on the floor, looking up at Ryan and speaking softly. When Tyler opened the door, Josh barely cast them a second glance. While Tyler would be making eye patches, Josh would be spending his time with Ryan.

“Hey, Joshy, Ry,” Tyler greeted with a smile. “Have you guys eaten yet?”

Ryan turned around, twisting his spine more than twisting his head. He still wasn’t quite using his body like it was his own yet. He still wasn't speaking. He rarely blinked and slept at odd hours of the day, sometimes just passing out randomly like a narcoleptic. It was disheartening, but Tyler had started reading a lot of psychology books and said it was probably for the best. Something about compartmentalizing and coping. Something about letting his mind come back, piece by piece, like someone in a coma. 

“We’ve eaten,” Josh replied as Ryan slowly nodded. Ryan had cognitive skills — he understood when he was being spoken to and what was said. He just couldn’t respond. “Have you finished showing Frank the place?” Ryan nodded again, agreeing with Josh’s question. 

“I think I’ve shown him everything,” Tyler replied. “They have to leave soon, right?” Frank didn’t answer because Tyler knew he was correct. They were heading down into California, Mikey saying something about wanting the sun and suspecting that half of the spray tanned masses were at least slightly satanic. It was a bit of a joke, but it was a direction to head in. They didn’t have any other option. Mikey was the antichrist, it wasn’t like he was going to just pick up a job as a Wal-Mart greeter and get an apartment. The world was going to end, at the hands of someone else, and they weren’t going to just wait around and wait for it to happen. 

“I’ll call when we settle tonight,” Frank told Tyler. He waved at Ryan, who slowly lifted his hand and waved back with a curious expression, like he didn’t understand the meaning behind the gesture. Ryan liked Frank. It kinda meant a lot to Frank. He’d done so much to ensure Ryan made it out alive; he’d taken Lucal into his own body. He was sure Ryan knew what had been done for him. 

“You guys be safe, okay?” Tyler said. 

“I made sandwiches for all of you guys,” Josh said. “They’re by the door. There’s enough for all of you.”

“Even Gee?” Frank snorted. Josh’s expression soured but he didn’t say anything. “Thanks for the good, Josh. We appreciate it.”

He turned to leave, but Ryan suddenly stood. He crossed the room a little too quickly to be normal and stood in front of Frank before leaning down and wrapping his arms around Frank’s neck in the most alien-like hug Frank had ever gotten from someone. He didn’t hesitate in returning the hug. Josh was watching, looking amazed, and Tyler was smiling widely. 

“I told you guys,” Tyler said. “Just give him time.”

“You’re gonna come back to us, right, Ry?” Frank asked quietly. Ryan didn’t reply. He just hugged a little tighter, pulled, away, and then went back to Josh. Frank grinned and ran a hand through his hair. An inexplicable feeling of accomplishment ran through him. That was the first time Ryan had ever been the one to initiate physical contact. It was a huge step forward. 

“I’m gonna head back to the truck,” Frank said. “We’ll see you guys in a few weeks, yeah? Don’t burn the place down.”

“Wouldn’t do that again,” Josh replied. Frank waved goodbye again and grabbed the sandwiches, walking down the long path to the gate and then to the truck. Ray was at the wheel and Mikey was standing outside, tapping his feet impatiently. He got into the truck once he saw Frank and the engine turned over. 

Frank crawled into the back and leaned across the leather to kiss Gerard’s cheek, startling him from his book. “Oh, geez, you scared me,” Gerard giggled, biting his lip. “Is, uh…is Ryan doing well?”

“Doing good,” Frank told him. “He hugged me.”

“That’s awesome!” Mikey said from the front, turning around to face them. “He’s on his way, right? It won’t be fucking long before he’s tap dancing his way into a university or a diner or wherever he wants to go. He’s improving.”

“It’s a long road ahead of him, but Josh and Tyler are good people,” Ray chimed in. “He’ll make it.”

“He’ll make it,” Gerard repeated softly. 

Frank looked to his boyfriend, then reached out and pulled Gerard into his side. He ran his fingers through Gerard’s hair, wanting him to relax and not wallow in the guilt. As Ray drove, Frank watched the scenery go by. They eventually merged onto the interstate and the reality of what was happening hit him hard.

“I’ll bet my mom’s dead,” he said suddenly.

“Yeah?” Mikey turned around again. “Wanna find out?”

“She kinda is your mom,” Ray agreed.

Frank looked to Gerard, who had fallen asleep against him. “Nah. I’ve got someone better than her.”


End file.
